Tying Up Loose Ends
by stamper55555
Summary: A serial killer killing only navy personnel sends the NCIS team including Abby and Ducky out to Los Angeles to work with the NCIS LA team. Tony and Ziva have to deal with some very personal suspects, and Abby is being fought over by McGee and Eric.
1. Mutual Jealousy

Washington DC—NCIS

Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo stared at the empty desk beside his. He was trying so hard not to go over there and look through it. It was almost guaranteed that if he did, his boss, Special Agent Gibbs, would catch him.

"What do you think, Ziva?" he asked the probationary agent across the bullpen.

"I think you should mind your own business, Tony," she warned.

"Cover me. I'm going in," he said, ignoring her. With that, he went over to Agent McGee's desk and started opening drawers.

"Computer stuff… More computer stuff… Aha! What do we have here?" Ziva looked up, interested. He had stumbled across a locked drawer. "Ziva, toss me a paperclip!"

"Gladly," she said slyly.

A look of alarm spread over his face. "On second thought, I'll get it myself." She had once told him that she could kill him 18 different ways with a paperclip. With her training at Mossad, he didn't doubt it.

Ziva laughed and gently tossed him the paperclip. He then twisted and bent it into the shape he needed, and then picked the lock. Inside he found something that, while he wasn't expecting it, didn't surprise him. It was a framed picture of McGee with Abby, the forensics specialist, confirming some suspicions he and Ziva had had about the two of them breaking Gibbs' rule number 12: Never date a co-worker.

Holding up the picture, he said, "Hey, Ziva, look at this!"

Just then, McGee stepped out of the elevator. He saw Tony at his desk, and ran over to the bullpen.

"Tony! What are you doing? That drawer was locked for a reason!"

"Good morning, McTardy. To answer your question, I was using my superior investigative skills to try to figure out where you were. How could I have known there wouldn't be any evidence leading to your location in there? We were worried about you, McGoo!"

McGee rolled his eyes and strode angrily to his desk, but Tony wasn't finished yet. In the back of the drawer, he found a crumpled photograph. It was of a young man with blond hair and glasses, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and flip-flops, sitting at a computer.

"Wait a second. I've seen this picture before. Doesn't Abby have one in her lab? Who is this guy, Probie?"

"Drop it, Tony. Leave me alone."

"It's early. Do you think Gibbs has gotten to Abby with a Caff-Pow yet?" he asked Ziva, completely ignoring McGee.

"Even if he has, she will not decline another," noted Ziva.

"Very true. If Gibbs needs me, I'm in the lab." McGee glared at him as he walked away.

Washington DC—NCIS Lab

"Good morning, Abs," Tony said, holding out the Caff-Pow.

"Aww, thanks, Tony! What can I do for you?" she asked.

He was already looking around the lab. Finally, he found the picture. "Abby, who is this guy?"

"Oh, that's Eric Beal from LA. He's pretty cool. He took me to this awesome club I'd always wanted to go to, and he helped save me from the Phantom killer."

"Would McGee have met him when he and Gibbs went out there last year?"

"I think so, but why are you-?"

"Come on, Abby. Just one more question. Please?"

"Fine," she said, crossing her arms.

"Do you think they became buddies?"

Now Abby looked extremely confused. "No, I don't think so. At least, Eric's not a big fan of Tim. When I was out there, I mentioned how much Tim liked their giant touch-screen thing, and Eric — well, the only way I could describe it would be to say that he scowled. But every other time I saw him, he was smiling!"

"Thanks, Abs," Tony said, turning to leave. "You've been a great help."

Los Angeles, CA—Office of Special Projects

Eric Beal of the Undercover Operations Unit of NCIS was reading his e-mail.

"Good morning, Eric. Sorry I haven't emailed you in a while. How's your team? Mine won't let me out of their sight, after what happened out there. Every time I turn around in my lab, someone's standing there with a Caff-Pow. Not that I am complaining about that part… I have to go. Tony's here. See what I mean? Say hi to the team for me! Abby."

Eric grinned, remembering how strong her caffeine addiction was. He typed a quick reply, and then clicked send, still smiling at the computer screen.

"You e-mailing your girlfriend at work again, Eric?" G Callen joked.

"Not quite," Eric sighed, looking at the picture of Abby he kept on his desk.

"Not quite? Or not yet?" Sam Hanna teased. He had seen where Eric was looking.

"Oh, have you two started e-mailing again?" Callen asked. He wasn't oblivious either.

"Yeah, she e-mailed me this morning."

"How's she doing?" Callen asked.

"She's fine." Eric grinned. "She says Agent Gibbs and his team won't leave her alone."

Callen laughed. "That sounds like Gibbs."

Sam grinned. "Is there anything about your friend Tim in that one?"

Eric glared at them both as they laughed. It was common knowledge that he didn't like McGee, and that Abby always had something to say about him in her e-mails.

"Speaking of which…" Callen started. He and Sam exchanged a grin. "When you read _Deep Six_, did you notice anything interesting?" Eric shook his head, confused. "We did. The names sounded familiar to us. LJ Tibbs kind of sounds like Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Tommy sort of sounds like Tony, and Lisa almost sounds like Ziva." Eric's face fell. Now that he thought about it, he _had_ noticed something vaguely familiar, but he hadn't been able to figure it out. Callen continued, "Sam and I took a closer look, and we realized that the name Tom E. Gemcity could be an anagram for Timothy McGee."

Eric whipped around in his chair to check for himself. They were right.

Washington DC

"Where ya been, DiNozzo?" Gibbs demanded as Tony walked into the bullpen.

"I was downstairs with Abby, Boss."

"Did you find out anything interesting while you were down there?"

Tony glanced at McGee. "No, Boss. I was just delivering a Caff-Pow, and making sure there hadn't been any attempts on her life recently," he joked.

"That's not funny, DiNozzo."

Tony looked up, surprised. He had been expecting that response. The "'Course not, Boss" had already been forming on his lips. But Gibbs hadn't yelled it; McGee had almost whispered it.

Ziva and Tony were still staring at him when Gibbs' phone rang. "Yeah, Gibbs. Sure, Leon, I'll be right up." Then, addressing the team: "Vance wants me in MTAC." Then, passing Tony, he reached across the desk, smacked his head, and said gruffly, "He's right, Tony, it's not funny."

"'Course not, Boss," Tony said, aloud now, though still stunned. Then he remembered what he had found out in the lab.

As they watched the door to MTAC closed behind Gibbs, Tony turned on McGee.

"So, what's wrong with that Eric guy? The way Abby tells it, he's pretty cool. He even helped to save her life. Sounds to me like you owe him one."

"Ah, Tony, but what if he had several reasons for saving her?" Ziva suggested.

Tony understood exactly what she was thinking. "Is that true, McJealous?"

"Judging by the look on his face, Tony, I would say we have hit the nail on the head."

Tony gave an overly exasperated sigh. "It's nail on the — Wait a second. You got one right! McGee, did you hear that?"

"Yes, Tony, I heard it. Congratulations, Ziva," he said dryly.

"McGee, stop pretending you're mad at us. We're friends; you like us. That's why you put us in your book. Hang on. I just thought of something. Is _that_ why you and Abby have been hanging out so much lately? I didn't think it was just what Gibbs had said about making sure she was all right!"

It was true. Every day that McGee wasn't in the field, he and Abby went out to lunch together. All of his free time was spent in the lab, for the same reason Tony had joked about. He was worried about her. This time was the last straw. Her assistant attacking her, her ex stalking her, and her almost being killed by an insane fan of _Deep Six_ had been bad enough, but he couldn't stand the thought of her ever needing help and he wouldn't be there for her. When he'd heard she was kidnapped in Los Angeles, he was the first one packed and ready to go, and the second (after Gibbs, of course) to hug her when she got back. Tony was right—he _did_ owe Eric, and he _was_ jealous.

But he refused to let Tony know. Instead, he ignored the question and got back to work. Gibbs would be expecting something when he got back.

Los Angeles, CA

Eric was still staring, disbelieving, at McGee's picture in the back of _Deep Six _when the Operations Manager, Hetty, walked in.

"Ah, I see Eric has found out Mr. Gemcity's true identity," she remarked.

"You knew, Hetty?" Eric knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was nonetheless.

"Of course I knew. I've watched that book change hands in this office many times, and I thought I should get to know it better. It was quite an interesting read."

Sam and Callen grinned, but Eric couldn't quite manage it. An unsettling idea had just come to him. "If he wrote the book, then it would make sense that his character would be McGregor, right? And Abby would be Amy…"

He became more upset as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. In the book, Amy had been McGregor's romantic interest. He didn't even want to think any farther than that. Judging by the looks on everyone's faces, he didn't have to. They looked at him sympathetically, and Hetty said, "Oh, Eric. I'm so sorry." He just nodded, withdrawn.

"Now, I am sorry if I seem insensitive, but Director Vance should be calling any minute, and we need to appear focused," Hetty said as Kensi Blye and Dominic Vaile walked in.

"Why would she seem insensitive?" Kensi asked Callen quietly.

"Eric just found out that McGee wrote _Deep Six_," he murmured back.

"Ouch," Dom whispered, tactless as always.

Then Director Vance appeared on the screen. "It seems that there has been an escalation in navy murders out there. There were six last week, and another two yesterday, all with the same MO. I'm sending my best team from Washington out there, including our medical examiner Dr. Mallard, and Abby Sciuto."

"Whose team would that be, Director?" Callen asked. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he hoped, for Eric's sake, that he was wrong.

"Special Agent Gibbs'."

Washington DC

"We're _all _going to LA, Boss?" Tony asked, both confused and surprised.

"Yes, Tony. The four of us, Ducky, and Abby. They need as much help as they can get. There've been eight deaths in the past seven days, and he's escalating. Get packed. The plane leaves at 5:30 tomorrow morning."

The flight was a long one, but it wasn't as bad as some had been in the past. Tony distinctly remembered the one coming home from Israel last year. It was in a cramped navy plane with no bathrooms, and Ziva had stayed behind. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to rid the memory from his head. On this flight, however, because there were so many people, they were flying commercial. Ducky and Gibbs sat together between Tony and Ziva, and Abby and Tim.

Tony and Ziva were discussing predictions for McGee's behavior when they arrived. Ziva thought he would remain professional, on the outside. She also thought that the two of them, looking for reactions, would spot them easily. Tony, always the dramatic, thought that McGee would punch Eric in the face if he did anything to even slightly get on his nerves.

"Tony, this is McGee we are talking about. I do not believe that he would hurt a flea."

Tony groaned. "It's fly, Ziva! He wouldn't hurt a fly!"

"So you agree with me, then," she said deviously.

"No way. That Eric guy is gonna get it from McGee out there; I guarantee it."

Meanwhile, Abby was telling McGee about the new headquarters.

"It's so cool, Tim! You totally can't tell that it's an NCIS building from the outside, but their technology is awesome!"

McGee nodded, not really caring about what the building looked like, inside or out (although, he knew from experience that the giant touch screen was cool). He just enjoyed listening to Abby talk. He knew that once they got to LA, they wouldn't get much time to themselves. He hoped they would wrap this case up quickly.


	2. First Impressions

Los Angeles, CA—NCIS OSP Headquarters

When they reached headquarters, most of the team was confused.

"Um, Boss?" Tony was puzzled. "You _sure_ this is the right place?"

"The sign on the door says 'condemned', Gibbs," Ziva added, as confused as Tony.

Abby laughed and led the way in.

As they entered the tech room, they heard Director Vance saying, "They should be there any minute. Ah, there they are. You've all been briefed on what's going on. I believe introductions are in order. After that, get to work. I want this case solved as fast as possible. Hetty, Gibbs, you are equally sharing the authority on this case. We are one agency; you are one team on this one."

The screen went blank.

"I'll start, then. I am Henrietta Lange, the operations manager."

Tony started laughing at the four-foot tall woman. "_You're_ in charge?"

Gibbs smacked his head.

"Thank you, Boss," he muttered, ashamed.

"Yes, I am in charge. You may call me Hetty. Then we have Callen, Sam Hanna, Kensi Blye, Dominic Vaile, Eric Beal, and Nate Getz, our psychologist."

"All right. I'm Leroy Jethro Gibbs, and this is—"

"Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," Tony interrupted, holding his hand out to Kensi.

Gibbs smacked him again, and amended, "This is soon-to-be-unemployed Special Agent DiNozzo." Tony rubbed the back of his head. "This is Agent Timothy McGee, our probationary agent Ziva David, Dr. Mallard—"

"Please, Jethro," Ducky interjected. To everyone else, he said, "Please call me Ducky."

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but now it was Abby's turn to beat him to it. "And you all know me!"

Gibbs and Hetty went to discuss the case in her office, and Ducky went down to get acquainted with the medical examiner.

Abby ran over to Eric and gave him a hug. "I missed you, Eric!"

Tony looked over at McGee, and then nudged Ziva. He was scowling at the two of them. Then his expression changed into one of surprise.

"Who's reading _Deep Six_?" he asked, spotting a copy.

"We all have. You're a pretty good writer, Mr. Gemcity," Callen said.

Tim blushed, and Tony laughed. "They're onto you, Probie!"

"Tony…" McGee didn't like it when Tony picked on him on a regular day, but he was doing it here, of all places. He liked it better when he'd gone out to LA and it was just him and Gibbs. In fact, he would have preferred being alone with Eric over Tony's teasing.

"Both of you knock it off! We've got a case," Gibbs ordered, smacking them both.

"On it, Boss!"

"Yes, Boss."

"Okay, Eric. Hetty told me you're good at debriefing, so get to it!"

"Um, okay," he said, retrieving his handheld. Sam and Callen walked over to the touch screen. They brought up the pictures of the eight sailors. "These six were all killed last week, between Sunday and Saturday," he said, pointing. "Then these two were both killed yesterday within two hours of each other."

Gibbs broke in. "Eric, Dom, and Kensi, I want the three of you to look at phone records, credit card records, anything you can find that could link them to each other! McGee, I want you and Abby looking over the evidence we already have. The rest of us will go out to the crime scenes and take another look around. Got it?" Everyone nodded. "Good!"

Tony stole another glance at McGee. Just as he'd expected, he was grinning triumphantly from ear to ear. Ziva, however, wanted to see Eric's reaction. He was glowering at McGee. Tony and Ziva elbowed each other to silently share their findings.

"Those of you going out into the field, I don't know how long we're going to be here, so we might as well make friends. Callen, I want you to take Tony to the first crime scene, and move your way forward. I'll take Sam and Ziva to the last one and we'll work our way back. If anything looks similar, make note of it," Gibbs instructed.

Everyone stood there staring at him, waiting for more directions.

"Move it!"

Los Angeles, CA—One of the OSP Cars

In the car on the way to the crime scene, Tony was attempting to break the ice.

"So, do you think Gibbs was expecting trouble?" he joked.

"Why do you say that?" Callen asked, confused.

"Well, he took a very well trained ex-Mossad officer, as well as the most intimidating guy on your team."

"Wow! She was Mossad?"

"Yeah, so be careful," Tony warned. "Trust me on this one: she can really pack a punch."

"I'll keep that in mind. By the way, does Gibbs always hit you like that?"

"Yup. It keeps us focused. We're less likely to goof off if we know a smack is coming. Well, everyone else is. It might be a good idea to warn your team. Now that we're all united under him, I wouldn't be surprised if some of you got smacked," Tony said, thinking of the consequences that might be in store for McGee and Eric if they couldn't control themselves.

"Thanks for the warning," Callen said, thinking along the same lines as Tony. "Come on, we're here."

Los Angeles—Crime Scene #8

Meanwhile, Gibbs, Sam, and Ziva had arrived at their crime scene. As they entered the petty officer's home, they were bombarded by pictures everywhere. Ziva took out her camera. Maybe the killer was in one of those photographs. When she reached a photo of the petty officer and her friends, she gasped.

"Gibbs!" she called. "I believe we have a problem!"

Gibbs and Sam came running, guns drawn. She shook her head at them and held the picture out to Gibbs. He took it and cursed.

"Do you two recognize someone in that picture?" Sam asked, confused.

Gibbs nodded. "Ziva, call Tony. Tell him and Callen to finish up there and go back to headquarters as fast as they can. We'll do the same. He needs to know."

Los Angeles—OSP lab

Abby and McGee were making little progress in the lab. They were basically waiting for the machines to process samples.

"Tim, what happened between you and Eric last time you were out here?" she blurted. "And don't say nothing, because I can tell when you're lying!"

"Abby, nothing did happen!" She crossed her arms. "I'm not lying! We just…didn't get along." He narrowed his eyes at her thoughtful expression. "Don't try to fix it, Abby. It won't work!"

"We'll see," she answered, turning to attend to a ping. She gasped. "Tim, look whose prints were found at the crime scene!"

He looked. The screen said "MATCH: JEANNE BENOIT."

"I'll call Gibbs," he said.


	3. Abby's Job

Los Angeles—OSP Headquarters

When Tony and Callen arrived at headquarters, they were greeted by sympathetic faces, all directed at Tony.

"What's going on?" he asked, anxious. "Is everything okay?"

"Come on, Tony. I need to tell you something," Gibbs said. He led him out of the crowded room and down to the empty bullpen.

"What is it, Boss?"

"Tony, we found a picture at our crime scene…and Abby and McGee got a hit off of some prints…"

Tony laughed. "I'm not being framed again, am I, Boss? Because I've got a pretty good alibi…"

"No Tony." He took a deep breath. "It's Jeanne."

Tony gripped a corner of the desk in front of him to support his weight. "Are you—are you _sure_, Boss?"

"Yes. Ziva and I both recognized her in the picture, and I even had Abby rerun the prints. It's her."

"But, Gibbs, I know Jeanne. You don't honestly think she's the one behind this, do you? She's not a killer. As a matter of fact, she was shocked—in a bad way—that I knew how to shoot. She couldn't have done this."

"Tony, you _knew_ her. She accused you of murder! She could have changed—"

"People don't change that much, Gibbs!" Tony snapped.

"You don't know that, Tony," Gibbs said calmly. "Now, calm down and think for a second. Do you want off this case? And remember, if you do stay on it, I can and I will remove you from it if you can't do your job."

"No, Boss. I don't want off this case, but maybe I could use some time out of the field, maybe in the lab helping Abby, at least until I can straighten out my thoughts."

Gibbs nodded. "Okay. I'll send McGee out with Callen. I really am sorry, DiNozzo."

Tony slid down to the floor, putting his face in his hands. He'd thought he was over Jeanne, but apparently he was wrong.

Gibbs shook his head sympathetically, and then went back upstairs.

"We need to keep looking. Sam, Ziva, let's go to crime scene #7. Callen, you're taking McGee with you. Tony's staying here."

"Gibbs, is he okay?" Abby asked, anxious.

"He will be. Keep an eye on him, Abs."

She nodded and went downstairs. He was still in the position Gibbs had left him in. She sat down next to him and hugged him.

"Tony, you know the only way to prove she's innocent is to get back to work," she said gently.

He nodded. "I know, Abby, but I can't help thinking 'What if she _did _do it?' Abs, what am I going to do?"

"Well," she said, "first we're going to take a break." He looked up at her. "You'll feel better after you eat something, trust me. There's a place just a few blocks away. They make the best chocolate chip cookies." Tony grinned at the mention of his favorite dessert. "Plus, they're as big as my head!"

"Is that with or without the pigtails?" he teased, giving one a tug.

She laughed and jumped up. "Without. Come on, I'll buy you a cookie if you buy me a Caff-Pow!" she said, pulling him to his feet.

"It's a deal. Thanks, Abs," he said sincerely.

"It's no problem. I love you, Tony! And I hate it when you guys get assigned to personal cases. I can't stand it when you're upset. That's why I make it my job to cheer you up."

"Well, you're good at it. Let's go."

Los Angeles—Crime Scene #2

"I'm lost, Agent McGee."

"Well,_ I_ don't know where we are! _You_ live here, not me!"

Callen laughed. "No, I know where we are. I meant, what's the story behind Tony and Jeanne Benoit?"

"Oh, he went undercover as her boyfriend a few years ago, to get to her dad. Tony was a film professor named Tony DiNardo. Her dad was an arms dealer, and Director Sheppard wanted him taken down. Tony ended up really liking her, and he was pretty messed up when it ended."

Callen nodded. "I know what that's like. It's tough."

"That's not even the worst part. Well, maybe it is, but I'm not done yet. She came back about a year later, when her dad died, to accuse Tony of killing him. He hasn't been the same since. We're all worried about him," Tim admitted. "Wait! Don't tell him I said that! I'll never live it down!"

Callen grinned. "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me."

"Thanks. Anyway, we all tried to cheer Tony up, but it's only been in the past year that he's started acting like Tony again. Which, in my case, isn't so great."

"I don't understand."

"He's constantly picking on me! Just listen to his nicknames for me. And yesterday I walked into work and he was going through my desk!"

"Did he find anything?" When McGee blushed, he said, "I'll take that as a yes. So, you said you're all worried about him, doing everything you could to cheer him up. I'm assuming putting him with Abby falls under 'everything'?"

"Definitely. If anyone can do it, it's Abby."

"I hope so. He seemed like a good agent when I was working with him earlier."

"He usually is, but on this one…" he trailed off.

"On this one, he'll be off his game. He'll either be in too deep to do his job right, or too withdrawn to do it at all."

McGee nodded. "Well, as much as I'll pay for it later, I have to admit I want the old Tony back. Let's get to work."

Los Angeles—OSP Headquarters

"I found her!" Eric had been running facial recognition on every camera he could get to all afternoon, and it had finally paid off.

Hetty nodded in approval. "I'll go inform Special Agent Gibbs."

"You're only excited because now you have time and an excuse to see Abby in the lab," Kensi noted.

"That is not true!"

"Sure, it is. The only one who doesn't see right through you is Abby."

"You want to go down just as bad to see Agent DiNozzo," Eric pointed out.

"I do not!" she argued.

"You guys!" Dom had decided it was time to intervene. "Do you want me to go down there?"

"No!" they both snapped.

"Then why don't you both go down together?"

"Fine!"

Los Angeles—OSP Lab

Abby was sipping her Caff-Pow as Tony worked on his cookie.

"You were right, Abs. This _is_ the best cookie I've ever had!"

"Careful, Tony! Don't talk with your mouth full! You're going to get cookie crumbs all over the evidence!"

"Sorry, Abs."

Abby walked over to him and smacked the back of his head, softly. Doing her best Gibbs impression, she said, "DiNozzo! Never apologize! It's a sign of weakness!"

Instead of laughing, as she had intended him to, he admitted, "I feel weak, Abs."

"No you don't! You're Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo! You can do anything! You can survive the plague, and laugh about your car blowing up! You can lead your own team when you have to! You've endured seven years working for Gibbs!"

He grinned at that last sentence. "Thanks for the pep talk, Abs."

She hugged him. "I told you; it's my job."

He hugged her back. "Well, thanks anyway."

"Eric," Kensi said, walking in, "What is going on in our lab?"

The two of them stepped apart.

"Hi, guys," Abby said brushing cookie crumbs off of her lab coat.

"What was _that _all about?" Eric asked, clearly not pleased.

"I thought you already met Abby," Tony joked. "Don't you know she's a hugger?"

Tony watched the anger slowly leave Eric's face. How were they going to solve the case if Eric is so easily distracted?

"Abby, why don't you tell Agent Blye what we've found out? I need to talk to Eric for a minute."

Abby looked confused, but she nodded and did as she was told. She didn't want to do anything to upset him. Eric followed Tony out of the lab.

"So, what was really going on in there?" Eric demanded.

"Exactly what I told you. Look, there's something you need to know. To Abby and I, this team is our family. We look out for each other. And seeing as how I am all but off this case, I've got the time to keep an eye on her, and _you_ can get back to work." It was worded like a suggestion, but it sounded like an order.

"I'm guessing you're the overbearing big brother in this 'family'?"

"Yup, that'd be me. _No one_ is going to hurt Abby," he warned. "That's why I am making such an effort not to seem too upset around her. If she knew just how bad I am, it would kill her."

Eric nodded. He knew how much she loved that team. "When you said that Abby treats the team as her family," Eric said slowly, "did you mean the _whole_ team?"

"Whoa," Tony said, holding up both hands. "I'm _not_ talking to you about that. Tim is my friend, and Abby's like my sister. All I can tell you is she loves us all in our own way."

Eric nodded. They walked back into the lab.

"Tony," Abby said carefully, "they found her. Gibbs is picking her up now and taking her to the safe house for questioning. Now, I know what you're thinking. Tony, you know that if you get too involved, Gibbs will send you home! Think about this!"

"Abs, I know, but I have to. I need to see her again."


	4. Nervous on Both Sides of the Glass

Los Angeles—OSP Safe House

Jeanne sat in the interrogation room alone, feeling sick. That man had said he was an NCIS agent. Those four letters were enough to bring back memories that she had never wanted to resurface.

Gibbs, Callen, Sam, Tony, McGee, Ziva, and Nate all stood in the room next door, watching her on a monitor. The plan was for Gibbs to go in and shock her into answering questions. He had told Sam to bring her in so that she wouldn't recognize anyone from his team, so that the effect would be greater during the questioning.

As Gibbs entered the interrogation room, Jeanne leapt up, surprised. "Special Agent Gibbs!" she cried. "Is he—does he know—?"

Gibbs nodded. "He's in the other room."

She now looked even more nervous than she had upon his entrance. "Can I see him?"

"I have a few questions for you first."

Usually, during an interrogation, Tony, Ziva, and McGee would place bets on techniques Gibbs might use to wring answers out of a suspect, but not this time. Tim and Ziva didn't want to do anything to upset Tony any more than he already was. Even Gibbs was visibly holding back to spare Tony. The observation room was silent except for Gibbs and Jeanne's voices.

Nate was having difficulty trying to do his job. He was supposed to be making sure that Jeanne was telling the truth, but Gibbs had pulled him aside before walking into the safe house.

"Nate," he'd said. "I know you get paid to read the people being interrogated, but I'm worried about DiNozzo. Could you keep an eye on him while I'm questioning Jeanne? I need a professional opinion. This case hits too close to home; I'm thinking about taking him off of it."

As far as he could tell from her body language, Jeanne was telling the truth. She had heard about her friends' deaths, but was obviously shocked and upset upon hearing they had been murdered.

Tony, on the other hand, was hard to figure out. He was very tense, but every now and then he'd sigh with relief, either because he could tell she was telling the truth or because he knew Gibbs was going easy on her. He was definitely attached to this case, but from what Nate had gathered from the rest of Gibbs' team, he was a good enough agent to stick with it, especially now that she was all but proved innocent.

When Gibbs was finished, he went back into the observation room. Tony looked up at his boss questioningly, but Gibbs shook his head.

"Not yet, DiNozzo. Nate," he said, gesturing that the psychologist should go into the hall with him.

"It was pretty obvious to my that she's telling the truth," Nate began as the door closed.

"Ya think?"

"Uh…okay… I think Agent DiNozzo should be able to handle the case, now that we know she's innocent."

"But if she wasn't…" Gibbs prompted.

"If she wasn't, I would either need to speak with your team's psychologist or talk to him myself."

"Well, we don't know how this thing is going to play out. You can talk to our psychologist, if you want."

"Sure. How can I reach him?"

"You know how to get to autopsy, right?"

Nate blinked. "Is Dr. Mallard your psychologist?"

"Yep. We don't have the need for one that you guys do, but whenever we do need one, to profile a suspect or for things like this, we go to Ducky."

"Okay. I'll talk to him when we get back."

Gibbs nodded his thanks and walked into the observation room. He nodded to Callen, who turned the monitor off.

"All right, DiNozzo. Go on."

Tony took a deep breath as he left the room, feeling six stares on his back. He was grateful that they were giving him some privacy, but was he ready to do this? Abby's pep talk from earlier flooded back into his head. He grinned, reassured, and stepped into the interrogation room.

He closed the door behind him and the two of them stared at each other in silence.

Finally, Tony couldn't take it anymore. "Jeanne, I'm so sorry," he blurted. Then, trying to add some typical DiNozzo humor, he added, "Don't tell my boss I said that. He thinks it's a sign of weakness." He paused. What was he thinking? This wasn't the time for jokes! "I had to say it, though. I am sorry. The director of the agency put me on assignment, and I had no choice. I hope you understand that."

He had told her all of this before, but she had been upset over her father's death. It needed to be said again. She just sat there, still staring at him, as he went on, "I have a confession to make. When I said that everything was fake, I lied. I hadn't expected to actually have feelings for you. I'd never felt that way before, and I—"

"Tony!" Jeanne interrupted. "I understand; I do. But I still need some time to think about this—"

"You've had two and a half years, Jeanne!" Now it was Tony's turn to interrupt, and he did so loudly and angrily. "How much longer do you need?"

"I don't know, Tony. I came out here so I wouldn't have to think about it."

"So, are you trying to tell me that you didn't think about me once in all that time?" he asked, softly now.

She winced at the hurt that was portrayed in every word. "I didn't say that, Tony," she whispered.

Tony sighed. He needed to calm down. "Look, Jeanne, I'm sorry I yelled. But… it's been really bad for me since you left and bad for my team as well. Actually, I think the worst part for me was seeing them trying so hard to cheer me up. It physically hurt me, Jeanne." He grinned then. "By the way, if you see a Goth girl with pigtails heading toward you, run the other way."

A few weeks after Jeanne had left; he had overheard Abby talking to McGee and Ziva in her lab.

"If I ever see her," she vowed solemnly, "I'll show her the physical equivalent of the emotional pain she caused Tony."

He had known Abby too long by that point to doubt that promise.

"I have some apologies to make myself," Jeanne admitted, bringing him back to the present. "I didn't realize what I was doing when I forced you to choose between me and your job. I know now that they have become your family. Then I was wrong again when I accused you of killing my father. And I didn't mean it when I said I wished I'd never met you."

Tony smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Jeanne."

"Boss," McGee began quietly.

"Ya got something on your mind, McGee?" Gibbs asked loudly, attracting everyone's attention.

McGee cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah, Boss. Uh, do you think they'll…uh, be…together again?"

"Well, I don't know, McGee. Do I look like DiNozzo?"

"Uh, no, Boss, but—"

"Besides, I don't think it's any of your business, is it?"

"Well no, Boss, but… somebody should warn Abby."

Understanding shone in Gibbs' eyes. He had heard about that comment down in the lab, and many more. He nodded, and was just opening his mouth to tell McGee to get on it, when he was interrupted.

"I will do it, Gibbs," Ziva volunteered. She hadn't wanted to be here in the first place, and she didn't want to be here when Tony and Jeanne left, presumably together. She knew that McGee would want to be checking in on Eric and Abby, but she had to leave. Nate offered to drive her back to headquarters, and they left.

Los Angeles—OSP Lab

"I can't believe it!"

"I know, Abby."

Ziva had just informed Abby of the situation with Tony and Jeanne.

"Am I being a bad friend to Tony by wishing that she had been guilty so we could put her away forever and she can't hurt him anymore?" she asked.

Ziva grinned. "Unfortunately, yes. You know that would be much worse."

"Yeah, you're right. I can't believe she managed to weasel herself back into his life after last time! I can't believe Gibbs allowed this to happen! What happened to him having Tony's six? And now I have to break a promise, too!"

She was furious. She wished McGee had told her instead of Ziva. She needed to hit someone, and she could get away with hitting McGee without him taking her down without even thinking about it, the way Ziva would.

"Well, Ziva, I'll just have to try and talk some sense into him the next time I see him. But he's going to be back out in the field, so I need you to keep an eye on him. Tell Gibbs, Callen, and Sam, too."

"What are we telling Gibbs, Callen, and Sam?" Callen asked, walking into the lab.

"To watch Tony's six, and report to me if he seems even the slightest bit out of character. If she hurts him anymore, she's going to be answering to me," Abby vowed, determined.

Callen's eyes widened. He had not been expecting this. "I'll pass on the message."

"Thanks, G Callen."

"You're quite welcome, Abby Sciuto. By the way, Ziva, Gibbs wants us back in the field. I guess he wants to keep an eye on Tony, too, because you're with me this time." Then, turning back to Abby, he added, "Agent McGee will be right down here to help you."

A few minutes later, he was standing in the doorway with a Caff-Pow.

"McGee!" Abby cried, holding out her arms for a hug.

Happy to oblige, he set her Caff-Pow down and walked over to her. He had just put his arms around her when she punched one of them. He jumped back.

"Ow! Abby! What was that for?"

"Sorry, Timmy! I'm just so mad about Jeanne making Tony take her back, and I couldn't hit Ziva because she'd kill me in about two seconds, and I know if I hit you, you won't take it personally. But go ahead. Hit me back. I shouldn't have punched you."

She closed her eyes, bracing herself, but nothing happened. She opened them again and crossed her arms.

"McGee! Didn't you hear me? I told you to hit me back!"

"I'm not going to hit you, Abs."

"Why not?"

"Because if I do, Gibbs will come down just in time to see it, and then he'd smack my head all the way to D.C.!" he pointed out.

"McChicken," Abby taunted.

After checking to make sure no one was there, he punched her on the arm.

"There," she said. "Now don't you feel better?"

"No," he said stubbornly. "And don't you dare give Tony that 'McChicken' idea."

"Why not? It might come in handy if…" she trailed off.

McGee had been glaring at her, but now he walked over to her. Her worried expression had him concerned.

"Tim, what if she breaks his heart again?" she whispered.

He hugged her. "Then we'll just have to be there to pick up the pieces."

Los Angeles—OSP Autopsy

"And that, my dear boy, is why I never—"

"Dr. Mallard?" Nate said, walking into autopsy. "Who were you talking to?"

"Please, call me Ducky! I was talking to this poor boy right here." He gestured to the dead sailor on the table.

Nate was now concerned. This was their psychologist? He hardly seemed sane himself! But Nate could tell that Gibbs wasn't the kind of man to be questioned. "All right, Ducky. Can I talk to you about Agent DiNozzo?"

"Ah, yes. I am sure that Jethro is the one sending you. Is this about Dr. Benoit?"

"Yes, it is."

"And you want to discuss with me whether or not he should stay on this case?"

"Well, I think he's fine to stay on it. She has nothing to do with these murders. Gibbs, however, told me we don't know where things are going to go, so here I am."

"Don't take it personally, my boy. He just wants to make sure he's doing the right thing for Anthony. But if you're sure she's innocent…"

"Well, her body language left me with the impression that she answered all of Agent Gibbs' questions truthfully, if kind of anxious. So unless she's an expert liar…"

"Don't doubt yourself. As I said, Jethro just wants what's best—"

Nate's phone rang; Eric was calling him. "Excuse me, Ducky."

"Of course, of course."

"Eric, we're in the middle of something—"

"Are you in autopsy?" Eric interrupted.

"Yeah, I'm talking to Ducky."

"Well, the director wants you both up here now."

Los Angeles—OSP Headquarters

Everyone had just come in from their last crime scene when Eric came to the top of the steps and whistled at them.

"Well, that's effective, isn't it?" Tony said to Ziva as everyone rushed up the stairs. "We either get a phone call or a glare from the Tooth Pick."

Callen turned to look at him, shocked. "Is that what you call the director?"

Tony shrugged nonchalantly. "Not to his face."

Gibbs couldn't help grinning, but he smacked Tony anyway. "Keep your comments to yourself, DiNozzo."

"You siding with him now, Boss? Don't you remember—?"

"'Course I'm not, DiNozzo. I was there. But he's the director; try to be professional."

"Yes, Boss."

They walked into the room to see Director Vance's face on the screen.

Getting straight to the point, Gibbs asked, "What do you want, Leon?"

"Well, Agent Gibbs, I have a new crime scene for you to investigate."

"Where?" Callen asked.

"Right here in DC. Same MO, but this one came with a note."

"What kind of a note, Leon?" Gibbs wanted to know.

"I sent it to Eric. Go ahead and pull it up."

He did. Now on the screen was a picture of a piece of paper with Arabic writing on it.

"Well, what does it say?" Gibbs asked, growing impatient.

"It says, 'Tell Agent Gibbs to give me my daughter back.'"

"Someone's accusing Gibbs of kidnapping?" Tony was confused.

"I do not think he is being of kidnapping, Tony," Ziva answered. Everyone turned to look at her. "I believe that is my father's handwriting."


	5. Ziva's a Fighter

Los Angeles: OSP Bullpen

After she voiced her idea aloud, Ziva excused herself. She was most likely in the lab, the only place with insured privacy, but no one checked to make sure; she obviously wanted her privacy.

Gibbs, Hetty, Callen, Sam, and Eric were still talking to the director, discussing flight plans and the next step.

Ducky, now short on time, was in autopsy setting up a video chat. Because the bodies couldn't fly commercial with the rest of them, the Los Angeles medical examiner would need to finish with the bodies there, and Ducky wanted to see the autopsies, to supervise and give feedback.

The remaining four agents, the forensic scientist, and the psychologist were discussing the latest development in the bullpen.

"Well, this sucks!" Abby declared.

"Which part?" Tony asked. Not only was there another body, but he could read Ziva now, after more than four years. She was thinking about going back to Israel. She would think that she was saving lives, when all she would be doing is killing herself. Tony wouldn't let her go.

"The rest of you are so easy to cheer up!" Abby interrupted his thoughts. "With Gibbs, it's a hug, and then he'll go home and work on his boat. With you, it's a hug, a cookie, and a few movies. With McGee, it's a hug and some geek-speak—"

"Hey!" McGee broke in, embarrassed.

Ignoring him, she continued her rant. "But with Ziva…Well, the only thing I know she likes to do is fight!"

"And shoot," McGee added.

"And mess up English expressions," Tony tried to lighten Abby's mood, but ended up earning himself a punch in the gut from the usually-happy Goth.

"This isn't funny, Tony! I'm completely at a loss here!"

"Well, you guys have a gym, right?" Dom asked, trying to help.

"Yeah. So?" Tony didn't see what that had to do with anything.

"If she likes to fight, why don't you just box with her, or something?"

Tony laughed bitterly. "I don't think a murder charge will make her feel any better."

Kensi, Dom, and Nate exchanged confused glances.

"We don't follow," Kensi finally admitted.

"She's Mossad," McGee said.

"Well, she used to be. Obviously, she's NCIS now. But the training is still there," Abby elaborated.

"Sam could probably take her," Nate said.

"I'd give it about five minutes," Tony scoffed.

"He's a SEAL," Kensi said.

"In that case, Tony, it'd take longer than five minutes," McGee pointed out.

"So just how long would it take, McCalculator?" Tony asked. "Come on, make a guess."

"I don't know…It might take about twenty, twenty-five minutes. It'd probably be pretty close, but—"

"You guys, stop!" Abby was done with this conversation. "Ziva can't wait until we get back to DC! We need to figure something out for right now!"

"Well, if you're interested, we've got a punching bag upstairs," Nate said.

"Go, Tony. Tell Ziva about that. It's the only thing we can do for now," Abby ordered.

"Why me?"

"Because you're the closest one to Ziva, after Gibbs."

"But I need to tell Jeanne—"

"Shut up about Jeanne!" Abby snapped. "You can live without her, if it comes to that! You've done it before! But if Ziva goes back to Israel… none of us will see her again. You and Jeanne could probably work something out. But if Ziva leaves…Even if she survives disobeying her father…" her voice trailed off. She knew she hit him below the belt with the last part, and she felt bad, but it had worked. She could see the pain and understanding in his eyes.

Flashbacks flew behind his eyes. There were the many times his father had disciplined him after he had disobeyed him as a child…and then the memory of leaving Ziva in Israel the last time…coming at a close with the time spent with Saleem in the Sahara. He wouldn't, couldn't let it happen again. He nodded. "Okay, Abs. I'm going."

Los Angeles—OSP Lab

"Ziva?" Tony called, walking into the lab tentatively. He was more than a little uncomfortable with the task ahead of him, especially considering what Ziva could do to him if he said the wrong thing.

"What do you want, Tony?" she asked, tired.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay," he answered. He noticed that her eyes were slightly puffy, but decided that it would be best to pretend he didn't.

"Oh. I was expecting Abby."

"So was I, but she said I should do it."

"Why?"

"Who knows? It's Abby. She thinks differently from the rest of us. She might think that I can relate to you best, because we both have fathers who could play any and every villain from any Disney movie."

"All right. But what could you possibly have to say that would make me feel better?"

"For starters, we don't know for sure that your father is the killer."

"It most likely was not him. He knows many people who would gladly kill for him. I know he is behind it, though, Tony. Like Gibbs would say, I can feel it in my butt."

Ordinarily, Tony would have laughed at this mistake, and she never would have lived it down. This time, however, there was nothing amusing at all. Still, he couldn't help but correct her. "It's gut, Ziva. You've got a gut feeling."

"Ah, yes. I apologize, Tony." Her voice held as much emotion as one of Ducky's corpses.

"Rule number six," he said reflexively. Again, he couldn't help it; it was a habit. "Anyway, you didn't let me finish. I know you like to let off steam by fighting, so—"

"I'm not going to hit you, Tony."

"Good, because the offer doesn't stand. It'd be hard to have your six from a hospital bed. Actually, as upset as you are, maybe even one of Ducky's tables. Anyway, as I was saying, there's a punching bag upstairs, completely at your mercy."

"I do not find that amusing, Tony. I will not hit McGee, either."

"It's kind of funny that you thought I meant him," Tony said, grinning in spite of himself. "Seriously. There is a punching bag upstairs. Apparently, Sam uses it when he gets upset. He used to be a SEAL. I recommend you use it," he finished authoritatively.

"Why should I listen to you?"

"Because I can tell you're thinking about going back to Israel to please your father!" he shouted, his temper getting the better of him. "If you can listen to him, why not someone who _actually cares about you_? I'm not letting you go back to Israel alone again! Even with everyone in this building on your six, I still wouldn't like it! I _will not_ have a repeat of this summer! So you'd better get that thought out of your head, Agent David!"

She blinked, surprised at his outburst. "And if I say I want to go back?"

"I'd say you know how to lie better than that, Ziva. If you wanted to go back, you wouldn't be working your butt off trying to become a citizen here. Don't try to play hero and go back to Israel to save lives; you can do that from here, and actually live long enough to enjoy it. Besides," he added, calming down, "I'm your Senior Field Agent. You _have_ to listen to me."

As they started toward the stairs, she said sincerely, "Thank you, Tony."


	6. Got Your Six

Los Angeles—OSP Headquarters

"She's not going anywhere, Leon!" Gibbs growled at the director.

"I'm afraid that's not your decision to make, Agent Gibbs."

The Los Angeles team were all growing uncomfortable. This argument had been going on for almost ten minutes, and it wasn't going anywhere. Even Hetty was at a loss for words.

"Now, can we please just try to calm down?" she asked again.

"Hetty, it's not working. I've got this," Callen said, deciding to intervene. "Hey! In case you forgot, we're still working on a case. Gibbs, I'm sorry, but it is Agent David's decision. But that doesn't mean we can't influence it, Director. Maybe her father isn't behind it. We just need to get back to work so we can figure things out."

"G's right," Sam said, having his partner's back. "We just need to take this thing one step at a time. Right now, we need to support our people, which we can't do when we're in here arguing."

At that, Gibbs turned to leave. "Come on, then. We've got work to do."

Sam and Callen hesitated for a second, shocked at his leaving before the director had dismissed him.

"Excuse us, Director," Callen said, following Gibbs. Sam nodded to Vance and left also.

"Humph!" the director huffed. He was not pleased about the way Gibbs had ended their conversation. "I guess we'll have to talk about this more when he gets here. Don't forget, Hetty—"

"I never forget, Leon. We will all be ready for our flight tomorrow morning."

"All right then. See you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Director Vance."

Eric closed the communication and let out a long sigh.

"Is everything all right, Mr. Beal?"

"Yeah… That was pretty different."

"I believe, Mr. Beal, that Gibbs himself is 'different.' But if that's what solves cases, I suppose we cant complain. Eric…"

"Yeah, Hetty?"

"Could you try to find something more… professional to wear in Washington? There will be people there to impress."

"Oh. Uh, yeah, Hetty. I'll see what I can do." He was embarrassed. She had just insulted his choice in clothes—again. Luckily, no one else had been there to hear it. If Abby or McGee had been there…

"Hmm," she said, most likely doubting that he had anything nicer than khaki shorts and flip-flops to wear. "Well, do try, Mr. Beal. With Agent McGee around, you're going to have to try much harder."

She left, leaving Eric gaping after her.

Los Angeles—OSP Bullpen

"Thanks, Tony!" Abby exclaimed as soon as Ziva was out of earshot.

He exhaled dramatically and sank into a chair. "I think you owe me another cookie, Abs! I barely made it out of there alive!" As usual, he was using humor to downplay the situation.

"Did she hit you?" McGee asked.

Tony was up like a shot. He strode over to McGee and smacked his head, hard. "No, Tim, she didn't. But she could have. I would have, if I was her. Could you imagine the choice she's forced to make? She can stay here, safe, and have the blood of these vics on her hands. Or, she can go back to Israel, pleasing her father and maybe saving some lives, while facing whatever punishment he's got in store for her. And with her daddy-dearest, that could be torture; even death. And the worst part is, she's dead set on choosing option number two. And after what happened last time, we won't—can't—let that happen again. Where's Gibbs? I need to talk to him."

"Right here, DiNozzo."

Turning around to face the former marine, he asked, "Can we go down to the lab, Boss?" It was the one place he knew would be deserted.

"Let's go."

Los Angeles—OSP Lab

"Boss, we cant let her go back to Israel," Tony began.

"Ya think, DiNozzo?"

"Well, Boss, when I was talking to her, she seemed like she was determined to go back. We have to figure out a way to keep her here."

Gibbs' face and voice softened at the worried tone of his senior field agent. "Tony, I know."

"And if they're already killing, what's stopping them from kidnapping her?"

"We are," Gibbs said forcefully.

Tony nodded blankly. "Okay… But we're not doing enough."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"You really want my opinion, Boss?"

The question was meant to be rhetorical, but with an agent's life at stake, he was more open-minded than he would normally be. "Why not? I want her here just as much as you do."

_I doubt that,_ Tony thought. "All right, Boss. I think she should be with at least two agents at any given time, and, when we get back to the city, she should sleep at a different pace every night until we catch this dirtbag. But there's a flaw in my plan."

Gibbs didn't think so. In fact, he was thinking along the same lines. "What would that be, DiNozzo?"

"She'll never go for it. Boss, she'll never admit she's scared, let alone ask for help. We need a different plan."

"Let me worry about that. Don't you have something you need to do?"

"I don't think so…" Tony thought hard.

"Maybe a phone call or a meeting that needs to be made before we go back to DC?" Gibbs prompted.

"Oh, right. Jeanne. I forgot about that. On it, Boss."

Los Angeles—OSP Bullpen

"Where'd Gibbs go?" Callen asked as he walked into the bullpen.

"Agent DiNozzo took him to the lab to talk," Kensi answered.

"What about?" Sam inquired.

"Probably about how and where to keep Ziva so she doesn't go back to Israel," Abby chimed in matter-of-factly.

At the stares from the Los Angeles team, McGee jumped to her rescue with a nervous laugh. "She doesn't mean they'll tie her up."

"If that's what it takes!"

"Abby…"

"Okay, arguing will get us nowhere. We need a subject change," Kensi began, turning to her senior field agents. "Callen, who do you think would win in a fight between Sam and Agent David?"

"Ziva," he said without hesitation.

Abby and McGee grinned triumphantly.

"G! I'm your partner! Have some faith!"

Callen sighed. "All right. With or without weapons?"

"Without," Abby answered.

"Don't worry, buddy, you'd put up a pretty good fight."

"What are you talking about, G? You don't think I could beat her in hand to hand combat? I'm twice her size!"

Callen turned to look at his partner. "Sam, she's Mossad."

"And I'm a SEAL," Sam shot back. Callen shrugged. "What if we had weapons?"

"Depends on the weapon."

"Guns?"

Callen laughed. "You'd be dead in two seconds."

"All right, all right. Knives?"

"I'd give it about a minute."

Abby laughed. "That long?" McGee grinned. They both stopped smiling, however, when Sam turned to glare at them.

"Wow," McGee muttered to Abby. "You'd think he learned that from Gibbs." This earned him a smack in the head as his boss passed behind him.

"What was that, Elf Lord?"

"Nothing, Boss."

Tony walked in as the LA team started laughing. "What's so funny?"

"Elf Lord?" Dom asked.

Ordinarily, Tony would have joined the fun, teasing McGee to no end. Instead, after a look at Tim's miserable face, and seeing Hetty walking out of the communications room upstairs, meaning that Eric would soon follow, he strode forward and gave Dom a Gibbs-smack.

"You think that's funny?" he asked. "Nice doll." He flicked the alien bobble head Dom kept on his desk.

Kensi and Abby gasped, and everyone else with the exception of Dom gaped. Dom started babbling, "It—It's not a doll; it's a bobble head…"

Tony turned to gauge Gibbs' reaction. He didn't feel bad; he hadn't hit him that hard, and he did it for his friend. Surely Gibbs would understand that. Besides, Vance had said they were all one team now. That's how probies got treated on his team. But even with all of those excuses and explanations in his arsenal, Tony did not want to disappoint Gibbs.

He had nothing to worry about, however. Gibbs smiled and nodded his approval. Tony was ecstatic, though he covered it up quickly with years of undercover training. He was so happy he almost forgot about Ziva.

That is, until Gibbs turned for the stairs, and said, "I'd better go try and talk some sense into Agent David," leaving everyone still frozen in shock.

Los Angeles— Sam's Punching Bag

BAM! BAM! BAM!

_This is much better than crying in a lab, _Ziva thought.

"Why, hello, Agent David."

Ziva whipped around, fists raised. Hetty held her own hands up defensively.

"Oh! Sorry, Hetty!"

"It's all right," Hetty said, waving it off like her life was threatened by emotionally unstable former assassins every day. "…But are you?"

"I will be."

"Well, I would like to tell you something I've noticed about your team, something that happens very rarely." Ziva waited patiently. "It is like a family. You all have your own roles. They need you and love you very much. And though I would never tell Agent Gibbs," she added lowering her voice slightly, "You are the toughest one on your team."

"If you did ever tell me, I'd say, 'Ya think?'" Gibbs said, grinning as he walked in.  
"And I would have said that you know I hate that expression of yours."

"Aw, come on, Hetty…"

Ziva blinked. Gibbs and Hetty had a past? He talked to her exactly the same way he talked to FBI Agent Tobias Fornell, like he was talking to an old friend. She supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised, but she was nonetheless.

"Gibbs?" she asked. "Do you need something from me?"

His expression clouded, and some of his usual hardness crept back into his voice. "You bet I do. Hetty…?"

"Of course, Agent Gibbs," she answered, leaving them alone.

"Gibbs," Ziva began, "I need to—"

"You need to shut up and listen to me!" he exploded. "I know there was a time when I felt I owed you for killing Ari, especially after I found out he was your brother. But that debt has been repaid several times over, including sending my team to Africa risking their lives, to save you!"

Ziva started getting anger now, too. "I never asked—"

"I know you didn't! But we came anyway. That's what a good team does. And whether you want to be or not, you're a part of that team. MY team. We've got your six, and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"I will do whatever I need to do."

"No, you won't You'll do whatever I tell you to do. And the first thing is to get your head screwed on straight. You may not realize it, but the best thing for this team—you included—is that you stay at NCIS."

"And if I do not think so?"

"Then you're gonna be awfully unhappy until this all gets sorted out."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because until this thing is over, there's going to be two agents with eyes on you around the clock, and another two staking out outside."

She through a furious glare his way, but she knew better than to argue with him. She just whipped around and went back to annihilating Sam's punching bag. Gibbs took that as a surrender and, with a satisfied expression on his face, left her to it.


	7. The Gut

Los Angeles—OSP Bullpen

Tony was waiting at the bottom of the stairs by the time Gibbs got there.

"Well?" he asked. He tried to sound professional, but concern strained his voice.

"I told you I'd handle it, didn't I?"

The wall Tony always kept up so carefully to keep his emotions in check came crashing down. Relief radiated off of him. "Thank you, Boss."

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know…but thanks."

Gibbs leftover anger from talking to Ziva faded away. He put a reassuring hand on Tony's shoulder. "Anytime, DiNozzo."

As they reached the bullpen, Gibbs started barking out orders. "Kensi, Sam, I want the two of you upstairs with Ziva. I don't care what she says to you, if she says anything at all. I want eyes on her every second!"

They nodded and started upstairs.

"You afraid she's gonna run?" Callen asked Gibbs.

Tony smirked. "Gibbs doesn't get 'afraid.' He gets gut feelings. And when his gut tells him he needs eyes on an agent, it gets done, no questions asked," he shot at him loyally.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Cool it, and go down to the lab with Abby. We're running short on time here, so help her out wherever you can."

"Me? What about the McGeek?"

"Yes, you. McGee will be upstairs helping Eric and Agent Vaile with the computer stuff."

Tony watched McGee pale. It was only acceptable to him when he was the cause. Tony decided to step up for his friend. "Uh, Boss? Why don't I—" His words changed direction when the Gibbs-glare was turned on him. "—Go help Abby in the lab while McGee works upstairs? On it, Boss." He grabbed Abby's arm and pulled her toward the lab.

Los Angeles—OSP Lab

"Tony, what is going on?"

"Well, Abs, a lot's going on at the moment. You gotta be more specific."

"With you and McGee."

Tony laughed. "I promise you, NOTHING is going on there."

Abby crossed her arms. "Tony, that's not what I meant."

He sighed. "Are you talking about what I did to Agent Vaile?"

She nodded. "And what you almost did before Gibbs glared at you just now."

"Well," Tony began matter-of-factly, "Agent Vaile was out of line."

"Like you never are?"

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

Abby grinned.

Tony continued, "He's more of a probie than McGee. It was unnatural. I decided to put an end to it."

"And just now…?" she prompted.

"I was thinking it would be fun to intimidate Agent Vaile some more."

"Tony…"

"Fine! McGee's better at helping you than I am."

"And you'd be twice as bad trying to help Dom and Eric! Tell me what's going on! You know my rule number 1: Never lie to Abby. Do I need to remind you that I can boil you from the inside out without leaving a trace of forensic evidence? Or that I'm Gibbs' favorite, so even if I did, I'd get away with it anyway?"

"First of all, you forget that Gibbs likes me too, I think, and that I've been working with Ziva for about five years now. I'm used to threats. But fine. I'll tell you that McGee and Eric don't like each other too much."

"Do you know why?"

"Yes…I think so. I haven't asked McGee, but I've got a pretty good idea."

"Can you tell me?"

"I don't think so Abs."

Abby scowled. "McGee wouldn't tell me either."

Tony couldn't believe it. "You already talked to him?"

"Yeah, if you could call it that. He just told me what you did: They don't get along. Then he told me not to try to fix it, that it wouldn't work." She frowned.

Tony laughed. "He's right; it probably wouldn't."

Abby continued to glare at him, and he sighed.

"Abs, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. I'm sure McGee will tell you eventually."

That was when she realized the enormity of the secret. If it had been something small and embarrassing, Tony would have told her in a heartbeat. She relaxed a bit. "Fine, but I'm not done being mad at you."

"I'll buy you a Caff-Pow when we get back. Now, focus, Abs; you've got something."

"No, I don't. Don't change the sub—"

PING!

She turned around to gape at the machine, then back to Tony, incredulous.

He grinned at her expression. "I had to do something to get you off my back. Just because I'm not the boss now doesn't mean I can't use what I learned when I was."

He sighed with relief when she smiled back and got to work. He knew from experience that when Abby got mad, it never ended well.

Los Angeles—Sam's Punching Bag

Ziva noticed Sam and Kensi as they walked in—Sam was considerably heavier than Hetty—but she chose to ignore them. She knew they weren't there to talk to her and make sure she was okay, but to make sure she didn't run to Israel. They didn't care how she was; they were following Gibbs' orders. That just made her hit harder.

"I can see why G would think she might be able to beat me," Sam said, his eyes widening.

"When we were talking before, I thought they meant you'd be beaten when you were down, but, Sam, I think she'd kill you with her bare hands!"

Ziva turned around. "You are aware that I can hear you?"

"Yeah, but it's a compliment. I don't know many people that could take me down."

"Do not feel bad; I have had years of training."

"So have I. I'm a SEAL."

She shrugged, much like Callen had. She turned back around, ending the conversation. After a few punches, however, she turned to face them again.

"So this belongs to you, then?" she asked Sam.

"Yep."

She looked him up and down, sizing him up. "I would stop before I kill you, you know," she said finally. "I do have some self control, unlike Tony with an attractive witness…or suspect…or—Anyway, our building has a gym. If you would like to accept the challenge posed by our coworkers, I see no problem with it."

"I have to accept, then. I have a reputation to uphold."

Ziva smiled and turned back to the punching bag with less intensity than before. It was almost as if she had forgotten that her father was killing for her.

Almost.


	8. Campfire

Los Angeles—OSP Lab

Tony and Abby were hard at work, processing evidence as fast as they could while still being effective.

"What d'you got for me?"

"Jeez, Boss!" Tony jumped a foot in the air.

"Oh, hi, Gibbs," Abby said calmly. She was used to him sneaking into the lab. "We found a partial print on a doorknob that doesn't belong to the victim. We're running it through AFIS now."

"Good work, Abs. Can I borrow your assistant for a minute?"

Tony looked up.

"I guess so, but I need him right back. I'm up to my pigtails in evidence!" she yelled after them as they walked out.

"What's up, Boss?" Tony asked.

"No."

"That's not really a yes or no question, Boss."

"I'm not your boss right now, Tony."

"What?" Tony's temper started to flare up. "Boss, you can't quit again! We can't get through this case without you! Gibbs—"

"Relax, DiNozzo. I'm not quitting. And for the last time, I didn't quit before! I retired!"

"Then why aren't you my boss?" Tony was genuinely confused.

"Last year I got to see how well you can lead a team. I was surprised, and proud. I've got no idea where to start looking for Eli David, or his hit men. Here in LA, there's no boat for me to work on to help me come up with an answer. Maybe a fresh set of eyes would help. If you were in charge of this case, what would you do?"

"Wow, Gibbs. This is the second time today you've asked for my opinion. You feeling okay?"  
"Don't get used to it. And no, I'm not. Making the decision between dead sailors and losing an agent does that to a person. Now answer the question!"

"Well…" There was no way Tony was going to tell Gibbs that when he got really stuck, he'd sneak down to the evidence garage to ask Palmer's opinion. Absolutely no way. "I'd hold a campfire." Before Gibbs could respond, however, he added, "I know you don't like them, but they work."

"I know; I've seen it. Help Abby finish up whatever she's working on, then I want you both upstairs. I'll get everyone ready."

"Everyone?"

"Yes. Ziva has every right to know. She won't pass the information on to her father; even if she wanted to we wouldn't let her. Now move it!"

"I thought you weren't my boss."

"I changed my mind. You can be in charge of the campfire, but I'm in charge of you."

"Got it, Boss."

"Abs," Tony said, more to himself than to her, "Gibbs just said something about Eli David using hit men. What if this is like the Rivkin thing last year? Wait… It can't be, can it? She likes Werth. Stupid, steroid-popping, nose breaking…"

"Tony…" Abby said warningly.

"You're right, Abs. I guess it's better than a trained killer hired by your father to keep killing until you leave the people who care about you. Especially when the last time you tried staying with him he sent you on a suicide mission, where you almost died in the Sahara until the people you chose to leave came and rescued you—"

"Tony! Stop ranting! You've had your share of messed up girlfriends, too. Remember the one that was actually a man? Not to mention this one," she muttered under her breath.

Tony glared at her. "I heard that, Abs."

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Come on, I'm done. Which means Gibbs knows I'm done. Which means that if we don't get upstairs soon, he will personally come and get us."

"You go ahead. I just remembered something Gibbs told me to do."

"Okay…but don't touch the evidence!"

"I won't, Abs. I've seen what you do to people that do."

When Abby was out of sight, he pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Jeanne."

"Tony?"

"Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going back to Washington."

"Now?"

"No, first thing tomorrow."

"Oh. Do you have time for coffee before you leave?"

Tony laughed sadly. "I don't even have time for this phone call. I'm really—"

"I'll come with you," she blurted.

"What?"

"Give me some time to pack, and I can buy a plane ticket and a hotel room."

"Jeanne…I appreciate that, I really do. But I won't have any free time for a while. It'd be a waste of your time, and your money."

"Don't worry about that. If Anthony DiNozzo is anything like Tony DiNardo, he's worth it. Besides, I miss DC. I haven't been able to fit in out here. Believe it or not, I was even starting to look for an apartment."

"All right, but like I said, I'm going to be really busy. I have to go now. See ya, Jeanne."

"Bye, Tony."

Los Angeles—OSP Headquarters

Ignoring the curious stares (except for Gibbs', which was angry, as usual), Tony got straight to business.

"Campfire," he said simply.

McGee, Gibbs, and Ziva immediately gathered around him, out of habit.

"Excuse me, what?" Kensi asked on behalf of the entire LA team.

"It's a campfire. We gather around and throw out ideas. It's how Tony solves cases," McGee answered.

"Is he in charge now?" Callen asked Gibbs.

"Nah, but campfires are his thing; I don't want to take away from that." He then turned his Gibbs-glare on his team as they shared knowing chuckles and grins. Even Ziva's mouth twitched upward.

"Right, Boss," Tony said, grinning, fueled by the team's smiles. "It has nothing to do with the fact that ordinarily you hate campfires…Actually, you just hate talking in general."

Luckily for Tony, Gibbs had also seen Ziva's flicker of a smile. Instead of smacking Tony, he just grinned along with everyone else.

Tony, not wanting anyone to think they could get off as easy if they were to pick on his boss, smacked himself in the head. "On it, Boss!"

Then his expression changed into a more serious one. "Okay, so what do we know?"

"We know that we won't be able to access phone records for the leader of a foreign agency," Eric grumbled.

Tony and Gibbs both turned to him, Tony doing his best impression of the Gibbs-glare, and Gibbs giving him the real thing.

"Let me rephrase the question: What do we got?" Tony growled.

"We've got a pretty good idea who did it," McGee pointed out. Immediately he regretted it as every terrace of a smile was erased from Ziva's face. "Never mind…" he muttered.

"Gibbs, why am I here?" Ziva asked sharply.

"Three reasons: You know the suspect and how he works; I need all of my agents here, not babysitting you; and," he finished with one of his rare smiles, "because I said so."

She sighed, not liking any of his reasons.

"Hey, Probie!" Tony exclaimed, suddenly excited.

"What, Tony?" McGee wasn't sure whether to be curious or annoyed.

"Do you remember what you said before we went to rescue Ziva in Africa?"

"Tony, I told you, I was joking about the leather pants."

Abby looked up. "Ooh, who's wearing leather pants?"

"I was seeing if he was listening. He wasn't."

"What are you talking about?" Tony asked. "I was talking about when we were down in Abby's lab, and you said something that made…What was her name...? Anyway, it made that new agent quit."

"Becky?" Abby asked.

"Yes! It was Becky! Do you remember, McProbius?"

"…I think so…" McGee was starting to look excited. Abby was trying to remember exactly what was said, and everyone else was just confused.

McGee, Tony, and Abby were talking about the lack of information regarding Ziva's disappearance.

"And no one's telling us anything. So we have two options," Abby said.

"And they're both illegal," Tony added.

"Hack into Mossad…" McGee began.

"Or hack into Vance," Abby finished.

Tony grinned. "I know Option Two is out of the question, but what about Option Number One? Could you do it?"

"Definitely."

Gibbs finally lost his patience. He smacked them simultaneously. "DiNozzo! McGee! Do I need to remind you that the rest of us have no idea what you're talking about?"

"They're going to hack Mossad," Abby said admiringly.

"Forgetting about the legal issues, of course, are you sure you could do it?" Hetty asked.

"I believe in McGee," Gibbs said simply, but forcefully. "Now what was that other option?"

"Uh, I'll tell you when I don't have the feeling that Big Brother is watching us," Tony said, glancing suggestively at the screen behind him.

"Well, I for one am exhausted. It's been a long day, and we have a plane to catch in the morning. I suggest we all try to get some sleep," Hetty said.

"Hetty's right. The hit man—or men—are in DC, waiting for Ziva. I think my team can keep things under control tonight at the hotel," Gibbs addressed the LA team. To Tony and McGee, he said, "I'll take the first shift. You two look like you could use a couple hours' sleep."

"And what about you, Boss?" Tony asked, concerned.

"I'll get some coffee. Now let's go."

Los Angeles—Hotel

Ziva was sound asleep when Tony and McGee came to relieve Gibbs.

"If anything happens, call me," he ordered.

"Will do. G'night Boss."

McGee had brought his laptop, and Tony was playing solitaire with a deck of cards. After a few minutes, Ziva's snoring broke the silence. Tony grinned. It brought back memories of their first undercover mission. They had been married assassins. One morning he'd suggested that she see a doctor. When she asked him why, he'd said, "Because you snore like a drunken sailor with emphysema!" He chuckled at the memory.

"God," McGee said. "Should we wake her up?"

Tony chuckled again. "I wouldn't. She sleeps with a gun under her pillow. But be my guest…"

McGee shook his head and went back to whatever he was doing on his computer. After a minute of looking like he was debating with himself, he stopped typing again. "Tony…Today, why did you—"

He groaned. "Does there have to be a reason?"

"With you, yes. Tony, you pick on me every day, but today you're completely against it. I think 'why' is a reasonable question!"

"Tim, I'm your friend. It's funny when I pick on you," he began.

"Hilarious," McGee muttered sarcastically.

Ignoring this, he continued, "But Beal is your enemy. He's trying to make you look bad."

"And just how is that different from what you do?"

"I make you look bad in front of everybody, as a joke. Beal makes you look bad in front of Abby, for a purpose. Ant it needs to stop," he said, growing serious. "Right now, we need to focus all our resources on protecting Ziva. Sorry if I seem insensitive, but this is about her, not Abby. You and Beal need to get over your differences and help us stop this dirtbag before it's too late."

"What do you want me to do, Tony? Call a truce?"

"Whatever it takes." Tony's hard expression softened again, and he lowered his voice. "McGee, in Somalia—and you might have been asleep at this point—I told Ziva that I couldn't live without her. That's the truth. I don't know what I'll do if she goes back to Israel."

"What about Jeanne?"

"It's complicated," he said, closing the conversation.

The rest of the shift was spent in silence.


	9. Back in DC

The flight to DC was uneventful. McGee won the seat next to Abby, but had the good sense not to gloat. He still had to endure Eric's furious glares for the duration of the plane ride.

Washington DC—Bullpen

The two teams were only in the building long enough to throw their bags onto the desks before Gibbs yelled, "Gear up!"

"Um…Gibbs?" Ziva didn't know where to go.

He turned to face her and sighed. "Callen! Hanna! You're staying here," he barked. "Everyone else, with me."

Ziva sighed and sank into her chair. She had been so excited to become an agent and here she was, back on deskwork. She smiled weakly at Tony's sympathetic grin and wink.

Tony, McGee, Kensi, Dom, and Nate had gone with Gibbs. Ziva hadn't missed McGee's disappointed expression when he realized he wouldn't be around to keep an eye on Eric. Abby had taken him down to her lab to show it off. Ducky was downstairs getting Palmer so the two of them could collect the body. Left in the bullpen were Hetty, Ziva, Callen, and Sam.

After a few minutes of silence, aside from the typing from her computer and the surrounding bullpens, Ziva looked up, sure she was alone. She was shocked to find that all three were still in the bullpen, each working at a desk: Hetty at Gibbs', Callen at Tony's, and Sam at McGee's.

Hetty looked up. "Is everything all right, Miss David?"

"Yes…no…it is very quiet."

"Well, of course it's quiet! There's a lot of work to be done!"

Ziva noticed Callen and Sam's exchanged smirks. "Really? That is not the case with our team, specifically Tony."

"What do you mean?" Hetty asked.

"And what are these for?" Callen had found Tony's stash of paper balls. He tossed one at Sam, hitting him in the head.

Ziva grinned. "_That_ is what I am talking about, and _that_ is what they are used for."

"I see," Hetty said, turning back to her work as if she didn't see the full-blown war directly across the bullpen from her.

Ziva smiled. It was nice to have some normalcy in her life at the moment.

Washington, DC—Labby

"Babies, I'm home!" Abby exclaimed upon entering her lab. She ran around the lab, turning on her machines. Her last stop was her stereo, wher she blasted her favorite music.

"What do you think?" she asked Eric, gesturing to her lab.

"Uh…" he was overwhelmed. "It's…loud," he said finally. "And…is that a hippo?"

"Yeah. That's Bert."

"_That's_ Bert?" Bert had appeared in quite a few of Abby's e-mails, but Eric had assumed that he was her lab assistant. So all those times he'd asked how Bert was… The expression about assuming was right. His face reddened.

"Well, of course, that's Bert. Who else would he be?"

Eric made the decision not to answer that.

"Oh! Excuse me," Abby said as her phone began to ring. She walked into her office.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Abby." McGee was relieved that she actually picked up her phone.

"Hi, Tim!"

"We should probably be done here by lunchtime," he told her.

"Great! Then I'll run some preliminary tests and we can go out!"

McGee sighed in relief. She was going to lunch with him, not Eric! "Sounds great, Abs. Oh, I have to go. Gibbs caught me."

Abby laughed. "Bye, Timmy."

"Bye, Abby."

Walking back into her lab, she said nonchalantly, "Hey, Eric, what are you doing for lunch?"

Washington DC—Crime Scene #7

"Petty Officer Charles Castor, two shots to the chest," Kensi concluded from her position kneeling beside the body.

"Yes, thank you, Agent Blye. I can take it from here," Ducky said, somewhat shortly.

"Sorry, Doctor Mallard," she mumbled, straightening up.

He sighed, both because she was doing his job and because of her refusal to call him Ducky. "Mr. Palmer, get the gurney. We haven't got all day."

"Yes, Doctor."

"What are you McGrinning about, Probie?" Tony asked. McGee had just walked back into the room after his phone call.

"I just got some good news," McGee answered smugly.

"Let me guess: new McNovel news or Abby-lunch news?"

"Tony, I wish you'd stop calling it that!"

"So, does that mean that it _is _about the novel then, Mr. Gemcity?" Kensi asked as she walked into the room. Tony and McGee just stared at her. "What? None of us can wait for the sequel."

Tony recovered quicker than McGee. "Okay. Probie, answer the question."

When he looked pointedly at Kensi, she rolled her eyes. "You could be blind and still see what's going on between you and Abby and Eric. But if you need me to leave the room and pretend I don't know…"

McGee sighed. " Fine." His smug grin returned. "Abby and I are going out to lunch today."

Tony shot a look at McGee. Had he already forgotten the conversation they'd had in the hotel room that night? He'd explicitly told him to cool it with Abby. "Are you getting a little forgetful, McMemory?"

"Tony, she asked me, I swear."

"Either way, remember what I said."

*Back in the room with the body*

Ducky was just concluding one of his infamous stories, and Dom was hanging on his every word.

"Yes, my boy, things certainly have changed since my first year as a medical examiner."

"That's so cool! I love history!" Then, realizing what he was implying, he hastened to say, "Wait, I didn't mean—"

Ducky laughed. "That's quite all right, Dominic."

"You two done swapping stories? If you are, I want you to go back to base, Duck. Vaile, I need you bagging and tagging! I've got an agent in danger, and your BS isn't going to help anything!" Gibbs turned and stormed out of the room.

Tony and McGee looked at each other as Gibbs slammed the door.

"It's worse than Ari," Tony stated.

"Who's Ari?" Kensi asked.

Ignoring her, McGee pointed out, "He's known Ziva longer than he knew Kate. You're working harder than you did then, too."

"Who's Kate?" Kensi was beginning to get annoyed.

"She was—" McGee started to explain, but was cut off by Tony's angry outburst.

"McGee! Are you saying I like Ziva more than Kate?"

"No! Tony, that's not what I said."

"Good! Because Kate was one of the best agents to ever come through NCIS! She might even have been better than me if she'd lived longer!"

"I know, Tony, I know. I was just saying—"

"What _are _you saying, Probie?"

"I think he's trying to say that after what happened with your Kate—" Kensi decided to butt in. She was tired of being ignored.

"She wasn't my Kate," Tony said defensively. And a little too quickly, Kensi noticed.

It was her turn to pretend he hadn't spoken. "—this time you're expecting to lose another agent. To make sure this doesn't happen, of course you're working harder this time around."

Dom walked in and smirked. "Someone's been spending too much time with Nate."

Kensi shot him a glare so fierce it wiped the smirk right off his face.

"There, Tony," McGee teased. "You don't really care about Ziva, just yourself, as usual. You're just being selfish."

Tony glared at him and stalked from the room.

McGee winced. He knew exactly what he'd said wrong, and he knew that it would take a lot of work on his part to get Tony to forgive him.

"I'm going back to base, Boss," Tony informed Gibbs.

"You're taking a detour."

"Where am I going?"

"You and Agent Blye," Gibbs corrected, "are going to check out a crash."

"Why?" Tony was confused.

"Do you need a reason, DiNozzo?"

"No, Boss… It's just that car accidents usually don't warrant a call from NCIS."

"Fatal hit and run. Witnesses say we're looking for a dark car. And Eric caught him running the next red light."

"That still doesn't explain—"

Gibbs was growing impatient. "Male, middle-Eastern driver. Rental car."

Tony quickly realized what Gibbs was implying. "So you're saying that the guy who did this is a Middle-Eastern man with violent tendencies, from out of town, driving a dark car. Court's going to say it's 'circumstantial,' but I believe in your gut. I'm on it."

Then he hollered, "Kensi!" When she appeared in the doorway a minute later, he simply said, "With me," and turned around to walk out the door. She hurried to keep up with him.


	10. Crash and Burn

Washington DC—Crime Scene #8?

Pulling up to the crash and seeing the flashing lights, Tony sighed and rolled his eyes. It would be hard to get them to turn anything over to them. They would claim—as he had suggested the courts would—that their reasons were circumstantial.

"What's wrong?" Kensi asked.

"Metro PD," Tony answered, as if that should have been enough explanation. It wasn't.

"So?"

"They're local LEO's. They'll say we're just trying to steal their glory, and they won't give us anything," he said as they got out of the car.

Approaching the first officer he came to, Tony flashed his badge. "Special Agents DiNozzo and Blye, NCIS." Seeing the fearful look in his eye, he sighed again. _Probie_, he thought. "Can I speak with the officer in charge?"

Another police officer walked over and cleared his throat. "That would be me. Officer Quinn Thornby. This is Simon Cory. My partner is over by the car. Randy!" he shouted. The police officer turned around and waved. "Why are you here?"

Tony blinked. This guy wasn't one to mince words. "As I was telling Officer Cory, I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, and this is Special Agent Kensi Blye. My boss sent me here because we have reason to believe that a serial killer is behind this crash."

"Do you have any proof?"

"He matches the description."

"How do you know that? We're not through with our witnesses yet!"

"One of our guys back at base caught him saying 'cheese' as he ran the next red

light."

"And you're _sure_ he's the guy from your sketch?" _One of the worst things about being a cop in DC is there's always a fed claiming they've got jurisdiction on the interesting cases. And how._

"Yes," Tony said confidently, though they didn't have a sketch to match. Which Kensi was all too eager to point out.

"Tony, we don't have a sketch. He matches the_ profile_."

"Which is…?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," Tony said with his trademark anger-fueled sarcasm. "Israeli Mossad assassin trying to kidnap his director's daughter on his director's orders, because she made it clear that she wants nothing to do with him anymore—"

"Tony!" Kensi forcefully interrupted his rant. "Anyway, Officer Thornby, if we could just take a look around…"

Tony was taking pictures of the car when Kensi approached him.

"You know, Tony, it's none of my business, but I don't think it's right, what you're doing to Dr. Benoit."

He turned to face her. "You're right, it isn't any of your business, but I'll bite. What are you talking about?"

"Well, you can call it woman's intuition, or blame it on my job as an investigator, but I think we both know how you feel about Agent David." Ignoring his rapidly changing expressions, from surprise to embarrassment to anger, to a mix of all three, she continued, "Hear me out. I suspected before, but it really shows now that she's in danger." When the anger won out again, she said, "I'm sorry. I just felt bad for Dr. Benoit, and I know no one on your team has the courage to face you, even if they know, which the guys on my team definitely do not. And trust me on this one, you do not want a lecture from Hetty. So, now that that's over with, I don't understand any of the references your team is making. Who's Kate, and what happened in Somalia?"

He looked at her for a moment, then sighed and said, "I'll just tell you about the important stuff that's happened to the team over the years, starting with Kate. We met about seven years ago, on Air Force One. She was Secret Service. A naval commander was poisoned during his lunch with the president, so we flew out to Wichita, Kansas to take care of the body. There was a huge jurisdiction battle between NCIS, Secret Service, and the FBI, but we won out; don't ask how. But Kate refused to leave the plane.

"At the end of the case she was forced to resign, because she had been dating one of her co-workers. Gibbs told her there was a job for her at NCIS, and she took it.

"Two years later, she was shot in the head by Gibbs' nemesis, Ari Haswari. Gibbs

thinks it's his fault. He still hasn't forgiven himself.

"Kate was a great agent, and when I got the black plague—again, don't ask how—she stayed with me in quarantine even after she found out she didn't have it."

"Wow, she sounds like a great friend. I'm so sorry…"

"Yeah, it was tough. The director retired right after that. That's when the real change came. Female director, new Mossad liaison officer position, new face in the bullpen." He chuckled. "I dare you to ask Abby what she thought about Ziva's replacing Kate."

"A year or two after that, Gibbs was in an explosion and put into a coma. He retired to Mexico after he got his memory back. Ziva got into some trouble, and he came back to save her. I don't think he's taken a day off since.

"You may have noticed that we don't like Director Vance. Let me help you to

understand. Director Sheppard died on Ziva's and my watch. Then he comes in, and the first thing he does is separates us. McGee goes down to the basement to work in cyber crimes, Ziva goes back to Israel, and I'm sent onto a boat somewhere. Then he doesn't want to waste the resources to rescue Ziva from being tortured in Somalia. That was all us. McGee and I were actually in the middle of it, being tortured with her, until Gibbs shot him and we got out."

Before she could respond, he took a deep breath. "Let's go take a look at the body."

He pulled down the sheet, and suddenly his entire body tensed. He hurriedly covered the woman's face again before Kensi could see anything more than she was a brunette.

She watched as he took out his cell phone and walked towards the car, running his hand through his hair over and over. _No_, she thought. She pulled down the sheet again, hoping she was wrong…

But she wasn't. Lying there was Dr. Jeanne Benoit.


	11. Protection, Fail

Washington DC—Bullpen

Exiting the elevator, Tony said into his phone, "No, Boss. I should be fine… Yeah, Kensi's still there… Okay, I'll tell them."

Everyone looked up, surprised to see him there alone. Ziva was the first one to

speak after seeing the pained expression on his face. "Tony, what happened?" She was already out of her chair and walking toward him.

He held up his hands and dodged her question. "Call Ducky; there's a body Jimmy needs to pick up. Sam, Callen, I'm here to relieve you. You're needed at the scene of a car accident; in case you haven't heard, we think the guy responsible is the guy we're after. You can call Kensi for the location; she's still there."

"Tony, what is wrong?"

Ignoring her again, he told Hetty, "They're finishing up at crime scene seven, and McGee's on his way now. We're going to take Ziva home to take a break from all of this, and get her things. You're staying at Gibbs' tonight," he finished, acknowledging Ziva's presence at last. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go down to the lab."

Washington DC—Labby

"Abby!" Tony called upon entering the lab.

"You're back already? Well, I hope you brought that Caf-Pow you owe me…"

she trailed off after seeing his face. "Eric, can you watch things here? I have to go…"

"Where to?" Eric asked, looking up from Abby's desk…

And freezing when he saw Tony.

Abby looked at Tony for his answer.

"Well, if you're busy, I guess the elevator will work."

His answer confused Eric, but Abby nodded. "Okay. Is McGee on his way back here?"

"Yeah, he just left Crime Scene 7."

"Okay. Then, Eric, call him if we get a ping."

Washington DC—Elevator

"Okay, Tony, what happened?" Abby asked the second Tony pressed the emergency stop button.

"Jeanne's dead, Abby."

"Oh, no! Tony, I'm so sorry!" And she was, surprisingly. "How…?"

"Car crash."

Now she was confused. "Did somebody call you to let you know? Or—oh, Tony, you weren't there when it happened, were you?"

Her hug was so tight it was hard to breathe, but he didn't care; he needed it.

"No, Abs, I didn't see it happen." He took a deep breath, and began to tell her everything:

"McGee was telling me that I don't care about Ziva, that I only want her to be safe because I'm selfish. He was just joking—and, who knows? Maybe he's right—but I still got mad." Abby looked angry too, and he had no doubt that McGee's lunch would not go as he was planning. "So I told Gibbs that I was coming back here, and he told me to take Kensi and check out the crash site first—"

Abby gasped. "She was killed in that crash? But, Tony, that could have been…

Do you think he _meant _to do it? And to her?"

"No such thing as coincidences, Abby."

"But…but… Does Ziva know yet?"

He looked up at her. "No. And you're not going to tell her. No one is."

She blinked; he meant it. "Okay, I won't tell her…But can I ask why it's such a secret?"

He stood up and began pacing. "Six men are murdered, and she finds out her father is behind it, and that he'll keep killing until she comes back home. Which she really doesn't want to do, because last time she was there, Daddy sent her on a suicide mission.

"So he kills again. But instead of being out there, trying to catch him, she's stuck behind her desk with a bunch of paperwork.

"Now she hears he was involved in a fatal car accident, as the one who got away. If she hears he had Jeanne killed, she'll think what we do: it wasn't an accident. Now he's getting personal, going after the people she works with. It's almost as clear as if he left her a note: 'Look how easily I got his girlfriend; he's next.'"

Abby looked worried at this, and stopped his pacing with an even harder hug. "Don't let him kill you, Tony!"

Now that the shock was wearing off, he could successfully mask his emotions again. He was ready to go back to work; to catch this dirtbag. "I'd like to see him try," he scoffed, releasing the elevator from its standstill.

"I wouldn't." Her mutter was lost in the roar of the elevator coming to life.

Washington DC—Ziva's Apartment

"Okay, Ziva," Tony said as they walked through the door, "take your time; we'll just make ourselves at home."

"Do not touch anything, DiNozzo!" she shouted over her shoulder.

And he didn't. He just sank into a chair. McGee did the same.

"Tony, are you okay? You're not still mad about what I said, are you? I really didn't mean—"

"No, Tim. Didn't Gibbs or Abby tell you about the crash?"

"You mean the one he sent you to? No… Oh," he said sympathetically, thinking he understood, "was it a kid?"

Tony shuddered. "No… It was Jeanne."

"Oh, man, Tony. I'm sorry… _He_ did this?"

"Looks like it."

"You didn't tell Ziva?"

Tony looked at him like he was crazy. "Do I look like I want to be responsible for killing her? The way I see it, it's need to know. And she doesn't. Ever. Got it?"

"Yeah," he said, taken aback by Tony's outburst.

Then Tony smirked. "So, when's your lunch with Abby?"

McGee looked down at his watch and sighed. "It was supposed to be in about a half hour, but I guess I'll have to call her and cancel."

Tony looked at him for a minute, then said, "No. Go ahead, I've got things here. Just call someone as you're leaving, just in case. They should be done at the house by now."

Tim's face brightened. "Okay! Wait… Are you sure?"

"Go, McGee. Have fun."

"Thanks again, Tony!" McGee called as he walked out the door.

He hadn't heard the car drive up, or the door open. No footfalls alerted him to the intruder. Nothing seemed out of order until something hard and heavy came in contact with the back of his head.

Pain, panic, and the thought to yell to warn Ziva came quickly, but too late. His vision was already swimming, and then everything went dark.

Washington DC?????

Before he opened his eyes he knew something was wrong. Something was biting into his wrists, almost cutting off the circulation to his hands, which were uncomfortably positioned behind his back. When he tried to move them, the biting sensation only got worse.

_I'm tied up_, he thought. Then, before he was even finished with that realization, his eyes snapped open. _Ziva!_

A small moan from across the room alerted him to the fact that the last word was said aloud. Squinting through the dark room, lit only by a dim lantern in the middle of the floor, he saw Ziva sitting with her head down. He scowled at the sight of her bloody hair.

"Tony?" she responded belatedly, dazed. "Are you all right?"

He was too afraid—for both of them—to use sarcasm. "I'm fine. You?"

"I am fine, as well."

"No, you're not," he argued. "You've got a head wound!"

She looked up at him. "As do you."

He gritted his teeth, but said nothing.

Ziva sighed. "I suppose that neither of us would tell the other if we were injured."

"Pride is a funny thing, isn't it?"

She looked around the room, taking in her surroundings.

There were no windows, and only one door. Ziva assumed that they were at the end of an underground tunnel, because the walls and floor were made of dirt. She had been wondering why they had been bound so tightly, but not gagged, but now she could guess the answer: no one would hear their screams anyway.

"Why are we here?" Ziva voiced her thought aloud.

Tony chuckled humorlessly. "That's your question? Not 'where are we?'"

"Why would I ask you that? Surely you do not know the answer any more than I do. Do you?"

"No," he admitted. "And to answer your 'why' question, isn't it obvious? Daddy dearest is trying to get his princess back." Maybe he wasn't too scared for sarcasm.

"I do not find that humorous, Tony."

"Do you think I do? Ziva, Gibbs is going to kill me when he finds out what happened. I allowed these guys to take us. I failed, Ziva. I failed Gibbs, I failed the mission, and I failed you. I'm sorry."

"It does not make sense."

"Well, it's true."

"No, not that."

"What, then? Oh, if you're wondering where they're holding McGee, don't worry. He's okay."

"That was not it either…" she trailed off and eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'He is okay'? How could you possibly know that?"

"Well, I sent him to lunch."

"_What_?"

"Well, isn't it a good thing? He's not trapped here, too! Plus, he's having a good time. Abby asked him."

"I was saying it does not make sense that they would take you, as well. They could have just knocked you out, or even killed you—"

"Thanks a lot, Ziva!"

"Well, it is true! But there was no reason to bring you along."

The conversation with Abby flooded back into his mind. _"It's almost as clear as if he left her a note: 'Look how easily I got his girlfriend; he's next."_ Suddenly, he knew the reason he was here with her, and the thought caused him to shake.

They were going to kill him, and she was going to have to watch.


	12. Hurricane Abby

Washington DC—Abby and McGee's Usual Restaurant

Pulling into the parking lot, a huge grin spread over McGee's face. Abby's hearse was already parked. That meant that she had already ordered drinks and an appetizer, and he would be teasingly chastised for making her wait.

She walked into the restaurant with happy confidence, but stopped short when he saw their usual table. It was empty.

_ But her hearse is right there in the parking lot! Where is she? Did she get another table, or…_

_ No._ He refused to finish that thought.

An overpowering fear washing over him, he ran up to the first waiter he saw and asked if he'd seen her. You couldn't really forget a girl like Abby. With confusion and concern, the man directed McGee to a different table where, sure enough, she was sitting.

Instead of rushing over to her with a relieved hug, however, he froze. She was not alone.

His jaw dropped, and he tried to think of who this man might be. His back was to McGee, so all he could see was that the stranger had blond hair.

McGee got over the initial shock quickly. _She probably needs me to do a favor for a friend, like she did at Christmas…_

Then Abby spotted him and waved, and the man turned around. McGee's mouth closed again into a scowl.

Sitting with Abby was none other than Eric Beal.

Washington DC—Bullpen

Gibbs' cell phone was ringing. After pausing to check the caller ID, he answered. "Gibbs."

"Hey," Callen said, "I think I was given the wrong address for Ziva's apartment. I knocked and identified myself, but no one is letting me in."

After clarifying that Callen was, in fact, standing outside Ziva's door, Gibbs' gut gave a lurch.

"Get in there. Something's not right. I don't care if you kick her door in; just _get in there_!"

"The door was unlocked…and there seems to be blood here on the living room floor. Give me a minute…"

After the few minutes it took to make sure the apartment was clear, Callen came back on the phone. "Gibbs." He sounded anxious.

"They're gone."

Washington DC—Restaurant

Abby crossed her arms at McGee, a warning to behave himself. Eric would have received the same look, but he had his back to Abby to glare at McGee.

As much as he wanted to turn back around and leave, McGee knew he couldn't. First of all, he wanted to keep an eye on Eric. Secondly, he was starving. Third, and most important, he did _not_ want an angry Abby on his back.

So he walked up to the table. "Hey, Abs," he said, trying to ignore Eric. Seeing the warning in her disapproving look, he sighed and added with a sharp nod, "Beal."

Eric returned with a curt nod. "McGee."

Abby sighed. "You can't make this easy for me, can you?"

In response to her question, they both looked unhappily across the table at each other."

She sighed again, and changed the subject. "So, Timmy, how'd you get Tony to let you leave the protection detail? And how did your replacement get there so fast?"

"He just said I could go. And, um, I don't know if Callen's there yet," he mumbled.

She gaped at him. "He told you to leave him to guard Ziva _alone_? And you _listened_? Does Gibbs know?"

"Ziva is a trained assassin, Abby. She can hold up her end of a fight," he told her defensively.

"McGee, they are both emotionally unstable right now. Neither of them are going to be at their best. And you just left them there like sitting ducks! And one word, McGee: Somalia!"

This lunch was not going as he had hoped. "Abby, Callen is on his way now, if he hasn't arrived already. Now please, stop worrying, and _try_ to enjoy your lunch."

The emphasis on the word "try" was obviously directed at Eric, which only fueled Abby's glare at him. Then she turned away to talk to Eric. Just then, McGee's phone rang.

"Boss?"

"McGee." Gibbs sounded relieved. "Where are you?"

"At the restaurant down the street where Abby and I always go for lunch, Boss. Why?"

"Are Tony and Ziva with you?" The relief in his voice had turned into urgency…

"No, Boss, they're still at Ziva's apartment."

…And then into anger. "Why aren't you there with them?"

"Tony said I could go eat lunch…"

"Did I say you could go?"

"Well, no, Boss, but…"

"But what, McGee?"

"Boss, what's going on?"

"They're not there, McGee!"

He paled. Seeing Abby and Eric staring at him (the former concerned; the latter just confused), he got up and walked outside.

"Are you sure, Boss?"

"Callen just called to tell me that no one was letting him in. I told him to go in anyway, and he said the apartment door was unlocked, and it was empty. He also found blood on the floor."

"What do you want me to do?"

"I want you back here now! We're already two agents down, and I don't want to lose anymore. Bring Abby with you, I want you all in one place."

"Got it, Boss."

He walked back inside to the table and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. "Come on; we're leaving."

The tone of his voice told Eric and Abby that it would be pointless to argue.

As they were walking out the door, Abby asked, "So, where are we going?"

"Back to NCIS. Gibbs' orders. I'll tell you why in the car," he said, grabbing her arm as she turned to go to her hearse.

"McGee! Let me go! How can we get back to work if you won't let me drive?"

"We're taking my car, Abs," he said, calmly and patiently, like he'd had to use that tone before. This made Eric blink. How often did she need talking to like that?

"No," she said firmly, freeing herself. She grinned deviously. "_I_ am taking my car, and you two are taking yours."

He grabbed her again as she made to take off running so they would have to ride together. This time, however, his grip was tighter, and he gave a yank. "Abby, you're not listening. Gibbs says he wants us all in one place, and that place is my car. Jeanne was killed in a vehicular homicide this morning, and we don't want you to be next."

Seeing the stubborn look creep into her eyes, Eric did the one thing he never thought he'd do.

He sided with McGee.

"He's right, Abby. Let's go."

Though she crossed her arms and huffed at them, she obeyed. She could tell when she'd lost.

McGee looked at Eric, as if seeing him for the first time in a differently light. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"So, what's so important that Gibbs won't even let us eat lunch?" Abby asked. It was a joke, but she expected an answer.

McGee looked at her reflection in his mirror and sighed. He really didn't want to be the one to tell her, but he knew better than to lie to her. "He got them, Abby."

He wished he'd argued with her when she told Eric to take the front seat. She was so intent on having the two of them become friends, but he just wanted her in the seat next to his, to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"What?"

"Tony and Ziva. They're gone."

Here it came. The team called this phase "Hurricane Abby".

"No, they're not, McGee. Eric, tell him he's wrong!"

One glance at McGee's pained and guilty expression told Eric that he was telling the truth.

"Eric!" She was getting hysterical. McGee looked again at her image in his mirror, then pulled into a convenience store parking lot.

"Here," he said to Eric, handing him some cash. "Buy as much Caff-Pow as you can. We're going to need it."

"Why don't you buy it?"

"Because if the guy we're after is following us, and wants his shot at all of us, I've got the gun and the training to protect her."

That seemed logical to Eric, especially when he looked at the woman in the back seat. He nodded and took the money. "Okay."

When they were alone, Abby looked up angrily at McGee. "Can't you learn form other people's mistakes, McGee?"

"What are you talking about, Abby?"

"Jenny. Tony and Ziva listened to her when she told them to leave, and she died because of it!"

"Abby, that wasn't their fault. They were following orders." It was all he could do to stay calm.

"What's your excuse? You don't follow Gibbs' _orders_ if you don't believe in them, yet you follow Tony's _suggestion_, no questions asked?"

"Abby, stop! You're right; I should have stayed. But Tony shouldn't have suggested I leave in the first place."

"Don't you _dare_ blame Tony for his own kidnapping! Don't you think you've done enough to him today?"

"_Me_?"

"Yes! Because _you_ called him selfish at the crime scene this morning and made him mad, _he_ had to be the one to discover Jeanne's body! Now there's this…"

He had been about to yell back at her when he heard a tap at the window. Instinctively, he reached for his gun, then looked up to see Eric juggling five Caff-Pows. He reached across to open the door for him, then took two and gave them to Abby.

"Here," he said shortly.

Eric blinked as he got in. What had he missed?


	13. Ready or Not

Washington DC—Bullpen

After a long, heated discussion with Vance, Gibbs came down the stairs and paused in the entrance to the bullpen.

"What do we got?"

Kensi looked up. "Well, Dom and I could go to the rental place he got the car from and see what we can find out about this guy."

"Go."

"And bring Nate," Hetty instructed.

"When Abby gets back, we can have her run a DNA test on the blood we found at the apartment. If it's the kidnapper's, we know who he is."

"So you're saying we don't have anything yet."

"Gibbs," Callen cut in. "We're doing the best we can."

"Well, until I get my agents back, your bet isn't good enough!" He sat down hard in his chair just as McGee walked up.

"McGee!"

"Boss, I'm so sorry—"

"Where's Abby?" he interrupted.

"She's down in her lab with Eric—"

"So why are you up here?"

"Well, I—"

Gibbs interrupted him. "We both know that lab isn't as safe as it should be. Get down there!"

"On it, Boss!" The elevator doors were already opening.

Washington DC?????

"Tony, we need a plan," Ziva decided.

They had been sitting in silence for what felt like hours, though she couldn't be sure without a clock. She had the feeling that Tony knew something she didn't; something important. But when she'd asked he'd just shaken his head at her sadly, refusing to answer.

"Ziva, it took us months to save you from Saleem. And even though they don't have to go all the way around the world to save us – I don't think – it's still going to take a while. We used up an agency's worth of connections, more luck than we'll ever have again, and now we've got a bunch of battle scars to show off."

Thinking he was blaming her for this – which he had every right to do, in her eyes – she retaliated. "I do not remember asking you to come rescue me!" She already felt guilty enough about all the pain – both physical and emotional – that she had put him through.

"I told you why I had to do that," he replied quietly.

She had been about to respond when they heard a sharp click from the direction of the door. They shared a quick, anxious glance, and then all attention was on the turning doorknob.

It slowly opened, and in walked a man slightly younger than Tony.

"All right," Tony said lightly – though he wasn't in the lightest of moods. "It's been fun, but we've got to go. You see, our boss told us if we were late one more time, he'd –"

"I think tardiness and a boss' empty threats are the least of your worries," the man said coldly as he crossed the room, never taking his eyes off of Ziva. "You know," he said, lifting her chin to get a better look at her face, "I thought your father was exaggerating when he spoke of your beauty. I am happy to see that that is not the case, although it will be a shame to mask it with your blood and bruises."

Tony struggled harder against his binds at the threat. "Then why don't you just let her go?"

The man turned, looking at Tony for the first time. "I was given orders. In Mossad, when we are given orders, we follow them –" he turned back to Ziva – "or we face the consequences. Director David does not approve of disobedience."

"Oh, yeah?" Tony knew it was comments such as these that would only make his last moments more miserable, but he just wanted this man's attention far away from Ziva. "Well, I don't approve of guys who hurt the women I love!"

Ziva, clueless about Jeanne's death, gasped. As far as she knew, Tony had just admitted he loved her, and she had no doubt that this man would use that information to torture them even more.

Tony was satisfied to see that his words had the desired effect: the man was facing Tony again, a smug smile on his face. "Ah, yes, I wish I'd stayed longer to see the look on your face when you saw her. It was an added bonus that you would be the one to see her first, before anyone could warn you."

"She wasn't –"

_Whoa. Slow down,_ he thought. He'd been about to say, "She wasn't the only one I was talking about," but that wasn't what you said to the man who was just trying to find more ways to torture you. Besides, this was not the time or the place to tell Ziva he loved her.

The man's grin widened at Tony's abrupt loss of words. "She wasn't what, Mr. DiNozzo?"

"She wasn't ready to die," Tony spit at the man.

He just laughed, and walked toward the door again. "Well, I suggest that you prepare yourself. Because ready or not, here I'll come."


	14. Needing a Lot of Luck

**Washington DC—Bullpen**

Gibbs sat at his desk, scowling at his computer that wasn't giving him the answers he needed and drinking his umpteenth cup of coffee.

He knew Callen had checked out the entire apartment, and he trusted his eye. Still… His gut was telling him to go back and check for himself.

He picked up the phone and called the lab. If anyone would be able to find something that might shed light on this case, it would be Abby.

"Hello?" the voice on the other end of the line answered.

"McGee?"

"Yeah, Boss. Abby's a little… caught up in finding Tony and Ziva. You know how she gets when something like this happens, though I haven't seen it this bad since you retired—"

"Where is she, McGee? I need to talk to her."

"Are you sure?"

"Would I have picked up the phone if I wasn't?"

"Guess not. Okay, here she is…"

"Gibbs!" Abby yelled into the phone. "Can you believe McGee just left them there?"

"Abs…"  
"I mean, I know Tony told him he could leave, I guess, but he should have waited until Callen got there!"

"Abby, I did not call to hear you yell about McGee.":

"Oh, right, the case… I'm doing everything I can, Gibbs. I'm running he picture Eric got off the traffic cam through facial recognition, and I'm waiting to come up with a match on the blood sample. But it's going too slow! I feel so helpless!"

"Well, grab McGee and your coat and come up here. I might be able to fix that.

He hung up then, and Abby did as he told her.

"Come on, McGee. We're going to clean up the mess you made."

"Abby, for the last time, it wasn't my –"

"Eric, call us if we get a match!" she hollered over her shoulder, cutting McGee off.

**Washington DC—Ziva's Apartment Building**

"You know," Abby was saying to Sam as the four of them walked along the hallway leading to Ziva's apartment, "I haven't been out in the field since I was in L.A. with you guys."

"I wonder why," McGee muttered.

She whirled on him, glaring. "That wasn't because I went into the field! Besides I was fine, and we got the Phantom!"

"Abby, you were not fine!"

He would have kept talking, but Gibbs suddenly froze and put a finger to his lips. The three men pulled their guns, and McGee grabbed Abby and yanked her back the way they'd come.

"What's going on?" she whispered once they were a safe distance away.

"The door was open," he murmured back. "It could be the guy coming back to make sure he didn't leave anything. He could still be in there."

Gibbs and Sam silently took positions on each side of the door. After a curt nod from Gibbs, Sam kicked it in.

"Federal agents!"

They checked the apartment to assure that all rooms were clear, then Gibbs called McGee to tell him they could come back.

While they were waiting, Sam pulled back the curtain on one of the windows.

"Hey, Gibbs, check this out."

Gibbs walked over and looked out the window, where he had a plain view of the window, and, in it, their car. He swore.

"So, that's why he left when he did and didn't bother to shut the door; he didn't have time. He saw us coming and ran."

"So, the question is," Abby said, walking in, "did he leave anything behind for us?"

"I would say, 'yes,'" McGee answered, crouching down to take a picture of one of Ziva's coffee tables.

"What do you got?" three voices asked him.

"Well, it's probably no good to us now, but look here. There are three streaks here on the table, where someone in a hurry tried to clean something up."

"What am I supposed to do with that?" Abby asked, exasperated.

"Well, Abs," Gibbs answered, "you could take a sample and see if you can find anything out from that." When that didn't seem to make her feel better, he added with a hug, "Abs, now we know this guy makes mistakes. Next time he slips up, we'll get him. Let's get to work and see if next time comes sooner than we think."

After a few minutes of futile searching, Abby's cell phone rang.

"Hey, Eric!"

"Something she heard made her quickly turn on the speaker phone.

"Go ahead, Eric."

"So, are you guys finding anything there?" he asked, trying to make conversation that will delay what was inevitably coming next.

"Eric…"

"Right. Sorry, Sam. Okay, so we got matches on the blood samples."

"So, there's more than one?" Abby was telling herself to be optimistic; Tony or Ziva could have fought back. It didn't necessarily mean that…

"The sample from the living room matched Tony, and the one from the bathroom was Ziva's."

"No!" Abby yelled. She would have collapsed if Gibbs hadn't caught her and gently guided her down to the floor. "Nonononono…"

"Abby? Abby, we'll find them," Eric encouraged, concerned.

"Thanks, Eric," Sam said, taking Abby's phone and hanging up.

"McGee," Gibbs ordered tiredly from his position next to Abby on the floor, "go back to the lab and get Bert. And Caff-Pow, we're going to need it."

"Yeah," Sam added. "Along with a lot of luck."


	15. Hard Fists, Hard Decisions

**Washington DC—Abby's Lab**

"Abby," Eric was saying, "I could really use your help with this. I don't know what I'm doing…" He was struggling with her mass spectrometer.

"Then get out of the way," McGee advised him harshly, snatching the samples from his hands.

"I wouldn't be in the way," Eric informed him irritably, "if you would give me something to do!"

"We _gave_ you something to do," Tim retorted. "We can't help it that you can work your fancy tech stuff, but not simple lab equipment."

"I was told to _assist_ Abby. She is currently lying on the floor, worried sick about her friends, so shouldn't I be lying with her?"

It would be safe to say that McGee misinterpreted that statement, because out of nowhere, his fist connected with Eric's nose.

"_OW_!"

At Eric's yell, Abby sat bolt upright, and screamed when she saw the blood streaming down Eric's face, the murderous glares between them, and their stances, with fists readily raised.

"Oh, no!" she yelled, scrambling up to stand between them. "No, no, no, no, no! Stop it! Eric, McGee, stop it _now_! Don't you have the common decency not to get blood all over my lab?"

Eric felt like he needed to reciprocate that hit. "Okay," he said coldly. "We can go somewhere else."

"No. I don't know what this is about, but I'm tired of the two of you fighting all the time!"

"Abby, you didn't hear what he said!"

"No, Tim, I didn't. But I _did_ see the aftermath of you punching Eric in the nose!" She turned on Eric accusingly. "I hope you're not expecting any sympathy from me. I don't want to know what you said, but whatever it was must have been really bad for McGee to just hit you like that. He's not the kind to just throw punches without a reason. When Gibbs gets down here, I'll let _him_ deal out the punishment however he sees fit, but I think you both deserve something equally bad!"

"Abby, shouldn't you call Gibbs if we're waiting for him to come?"

"No, it'd be a waste of a phone call," Gibbs answered for her, entering the lab.

_Oh, yeah_, McGee remembered. _The gut._

"So? Is anyone going to tell me what happened, or am I supposed to guess?"

Everyone answered him at once.

"Boss, you don't understand, you didn't hear what he said—"

"He hit me for no reason!"

"Gibbs, I don't know, I just woke up and—"

"_HEY_!" Gibbs yelled. "One at a time! Abby, you first."

"I was trying to calm down – we all know that I can't function when I'm worried – and all of a sudden I heard Eric yell, and I sat up and saw them standing there ready to kill one another!"

"I'll take care of it," Gibbs said angrily, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it into Eric's hands, then dragging both men into the elevator.

Just as the doors were closing, Gibbs remembered something. He stuck his hand out to stop them.

"Abs? You okay for a few minutes?"

"_Yes_," she said forcefully, glaring at McGee. "I can take care of myself."  
"All right, then."  
This time he let the doors close.

**Washington DC?**

After a few seconds of silence, Ziva's curiosity won out.

"Tony," she asked softly, not wanting to upset him, "who were you talking about? Who…?" She trailed off.

He answered even more quietly, with pain in his voice. "Jeanne died in the accident we investigated this morning."

_No! Couldn't he see it as the sign it was?_ she thought. _Why wouldn't he tell me? Does he not trust me?_

When she said nothing, he looked up at her. He knew he shouldn't have told her; that her thoughts would go exactly where his had.

"Tony," she said finally, struggling to ask the question she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to. "Why… Why did you not tell me?" _Why don't you trust me?_

"I knew exactly what you'd think."

She was shocked. She had been trained to be unpredictable. "How could you possibly—?"

"Because I know you Ziva. And because I thought the same thing. I knew I'd be the next target. I was willing to be next, if it protected you for a little bit longer. I just didn't count on them taking us both at the same time."

"Tony, that is not right. I never asked you to do that for me."

Now Tony was starting to get frustrated. "Don't you get that I don't need you to ask? You're my partner; it's my job to have your back!"

"Then it is my job to have yours too, yes?" He inhaled sharply, ready to argue. She stopped him with one look. "Tony, my father is ordering all of these people killed to bring me back to Israel. I do not want you to be in that number. I am sorry that you were brought into this. Hopefully you will be let go soon."

"Ziva, don't you think that's a little naive? The only way they might consider that is…" His eyes widened, and his voice was filled with a pleading urgency. "Ziva! Ziva, think about what you'd be giving up!"

"I am afraid you are too late, Tony. I have decided to agree to go back."


	16. Elevating Hopes

**A/N **Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I was in Germany for 3 weeks (It was amazing!) and then when I got home I couldn't remember where I was going with any of my fanfics. I'm back on track now, though. Just be patient.

* * *

_Washington DC—Bullpen_

Sam was waiting at the elevator when Callen caught up to him.

"Okay, I just talked to Hettie. She said we can go to the hotel; she'll tell Gibbs when she gets the chance."

"All right, but we're gonna have to take the stairs."

"Why? We've been working hard all day, I'm tired, and the elevator is right here!"

"No, it's not, G. I think it's stuck."

"What do you mean, 'stuck'?" Callen asked, jabbing the button about five times before realizing why it might be stuck.

"You're right, Sam. The stairs are a good option. The elevator could take awhile."

"Why's that?" asked Kensi, as she and Dom joined them.

"It's stuck," explained Sam.

"Do you think anyone is in there?" asked an anxious Dom.

"Definitely," responded Callen.

"What? What should we do?"

Callen almost laughed at the urgency in Kensi's voice. "We go to the hotel, just like we were going to," he responded, "but we take the stairs." He actually did start chuckling at the incredulous looks he was receiving. "I'll explain on the way to the car…"

* * *

_Washington DC—Elevator _

Gibbs slammed his palm against the emergency brake. He turned on McGee first smacking his head hard.

"What were you thinking?"

McGee hung his head. "Boss, I—"

"You what, McGee? What's your excuse for making Abby's bad day even worse? You know how she gets—"

"Yes, Gibbs, I do," McGee interrupted. "I'm always the one there to comfort her. I'm the one who had to spend all day pretending I believe that there's a way to get Tony and Ziva both back here alive! Abby's not the only one worried sick, but the rest of us can't show it, because we're afraid of what it'll do to her! I wasn't thinking, okay? And, like I said, you didn't hear what he said!"

Gibbs slowly held up his hand. "Okay, Tim. I understand." Then he turned and smacked Eric, just as hard as he had McGee.

"Ow! I'm the victim here, remember?"

"Maybe. It depends on what you said."

Eric started fidgeting with the box of tissues in his hand.

"Well?"

"I was having trouble with the lab equipment, so McGee came over and told me to get out of his way. I told him that if I had something to do—"

Gibbs glared at him. "We told you to assist Abby," he reminded Eric coldly.

"I know!" Eric said hurriedly. "But she wasn't doing anything. So I told McGee that, by definition of the word 'assist', I shouldn't have been doing anything either."

Gibbs' glare got even more fierce.

"But that's not how you said it! You said, 'She's over there lying on the floor, so shouldn't I be lying with her?'"

Eric belatedly understood the inferred meaning. "No! No, I didn't mean it that way!"

"Didn't you?" McGee asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Gibbs smacked them both again. "So, I guess DiNozzo was right."

"Right about what?" Eric asked, but Tim thought he already knew.

"McGee, I know Tony already gave you this lecture, so I shouldn't have to tell you again, but it doesn't look like it sank in. There's too much work to be done for you two to focus on that stupid rivalry. Besides, McGee! What's rule number 12?"

"Never date a coworker," McGee muttered.

"That's right! So, tomorrow morning you two are going to forget about Abby. I need the two of you hacking into Mossad to see what Eli David is hiding from us. Together. Got it?"

"But—" Eric started to argue, but McGee interrupted him.

"We got it, Boss."

"Good." Gibbs released the elevator from its standstill. He was silent for a moment, wondering what was happening to his two agents, when he realized that the one he still had might need protection.

"McGee!" he said suddenly, pulling the man from his thoughts.

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Did Sarah bring Jethro back to your place yet?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Good. Keep your gun by your bed tonight. If Jethro barks, grab it. You might need it."

"You don't think…"

"I think Eli David will do anything to take Ziva away from us. Be careful," he

said as they exited the elevator.

"What about Abby?" McGee asked.

"She's staying at my place tonight."

"Gibbs, please—" McGee began.

"I'll lock the door, don't worry," Gibbs promised, turning to walk to his car.

"Do you want Jethro tonight? He's a great guard dog," McGee hollered after him.

Gibbs turned and walked back to where McGee stood, and smacked him for the

third time that night. "Don't you listen to a word I say? I know he's a good guard dog, that's why you can stay at home tonight. Abby will be fine." At McGee's uncertain expression, he added, "I'll be fine. Go home and get some rest."

* * *

_Washington DC—Bullpen_

The next morning, Gibbs called everyone into the bullpen: Callen, Hettie, Sam, Kensi, McGee, Abby, Ducky, Eric, and Nate were all awaiting instruction.

"Campfire," Gibbs said as he walked into the bullpen, coffee in hand.

"Boss, there aren't enough chairs…"

"Then stand if you have to!" Gibbs snapped.

Everyone shuffled to arrange the few chairs quickly, so as to keep Gibbs from

getting even angrier.

"So, what'd you guys find out yesterday?" Callen asked Kensi, Dom, and Nate.

Kensi opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off by Nate.

"Oh, you know…"

Kensi silenced him with a glare. "We didn't find out much at all. The rental place didn't keep great records."

"By that do you mean any at all?" Abby asked.

"Exactly."

Gibbs stood there looking furious, but said nothing.

"Did you find anything interesting helpful in the evidence yesterday, Miss

Sciuto?" Hettie asked.

"Yes!"

Everyone visibly brightened. Even Gibbs.

"McGee…"

He picked up the remote for the plasma screen.

"Okay, so we're about 93% sure that the guy who took Ziva and Tony also killed

Jeanne yesterday. So I watched the video of the car that did it again, and I got really close up on the guy's face." The picture appeared on the screen, looking very blurry. Abby's face fell for a moment, when there was no smart aleck comment from DiNozzo about the clarity. She sighed, and continued, "I cleaned it up as well as I could, and sent it through facial recognition,even though 'as well as I could' wasn't very good at all. Then I prayed a lot, but I didn't get a match. Then I thought maybe I could compare it to other videos around that area here in DC. I think I got a match." McGee flipped to the next picture, of a Middle-Eastern man eating at a McDonalds.

Abby sighed again, then said, "What's with these guys that keep taking us? One's got a Caf-Pow addiction, and the other's caught eating at McDonalds!" in her best Tony voice.

McGee and Ducky chuckled sadly, and Gibbs' mouth twitched into a slight smile.

The others, confused, realized that they wouldn't understand, even if it was

explained. So they went on with the conversation.

"So can you clean that up and run it through facial recognition?" Callen asked.

Abby shook her head. "I tried that. He's not in the system." Ignoring the

disappointed faces around her, she added, "We can, however, use it to try and triangulate his position. If we take into account that—"

McGee and Eric were already moving.

"The accident happened at this intersection—"

"And there's the McDonalds—"

"Here's Ziva's place—"

"Got it!" They yelled at the same time. They hadn't noticed the shocked faces of

everyone else as they worked together. "What?" they asked, confused.

"Nothing," Callen answered. "Just tell us where we should be looking."

McGee pulled up a map. "We can't be sure, but he's probably somewhere within

this three mile radius."

"Got it," Gibbs said. "Callen and Sam, you're in one car. Kensi, with Dom, in another. McGee, you're with me. Let's go find this dirtbag."

* * *

**A/N **Remember, reviews are appreciated. Even "I can't stand what you're doing! What were you thinking?" reviews.


	17. Beaten, Bloody, and Bruised

**A/N **I figured that since it's been so long, and I already have the rest thought out, I'd give you a few updates today. I'm just about done with this fanfic, but I'm completely lost on my other two, if any of you read them and can help me out, or at least give me a push.

* * *

_Washington DC—Bullpen _

"Gibbs," Callen began, "you can't just send us out there. We don't know where to look, or even what we're looking for! We need to keep looking here until we get a better lead. If we go out there, we could miss something, and then it might be too late. Think about this."

Gibbs turned on him, blue eyes flashing. "What if we miss something because we're here looking for leads where there are none? I've seen it happen. I've got to go with my gut on this one!"

"No. Gibbs, I've got to go with mine. I think you're too attached to this case to think straight." At the Gibbs glare he received, he backpedaled. "I know you know what can happen to even the best agents when their team is in danger. It's happened to me, too. We lose our judgment. If you want, we can send Kensi and Dom out there to look. But we can't send everybody we have on a wild goose chase! We will find a lead, and we will find your agents. But we need to be sensible as to how we go about doing that."

Gibbs, seeing his logic, deflated. "All right. Then Kensi, Dom, just drive around and if you see anything suspicious, call. McGee, Eric, up in MTAC. Use whatever you can up there to get that lead Callen seems so sure we'll find. Abby—"

"Gibbs, I know," she said, planting a kiss on his cheek. "We'll find them; I know we will."

_Washington DC?_

Tony and Ziva were still arguing when the kidnappers returned. Before Tony could say another word, Ziva made her announcement: "I have decided to accompany you to Israel. I will do whatever you say; just please do not harm my friend."

The captors, though shocked at first, just laughed.

"I do not think that is a promise we can make," the first said.

"We need you to know the consequences for running away, so we can be sure that it won't happen again."

One advanced on Tony, and the other went to hold Ziva's head steady. This confused Tony for a moment, but it all became clear when his captor's boot collided powerfully with his gut. He doubled over in pain (as much as he could with his bindings) but his assailant refused to stop. He kept kicking, faster and harder each time.

Ziva tried in vain to use what had been drilled into her in Mossad: never show weakness. But it was no use; every hit elicited a gasp.

Finally, it stopped. Tony was almost unconscious, just a bloody lump on the floor. Then, wordlessly, the two switched places, and Tony's beating started up again. Ziva could not shake off her captor; could not look away.

When Tony was unconscious, they brought a rag into the room.

"Here, sweetheart, just breathe deeply…" the captor said, holding the rag to her face.

_Chloroform_, she thought, as she slowly drifted into nothingness.

Tony awoke in a new place; a type of shed with metal walls. He hurt everywhere. He gave an involuntary groan, and heard a dark chuckle.

"Good, you're awake. Let's finish this quickly then, shall we? We've got a plane to catch."

The two men started beating him again, together this time. Ziva was nowhere in sight. Tony was not conscious long enough to worry about her, however. He was out cold very quickly this time, his breathing uneven, but the captors continued to strike for several more minutes.

Finally, after putting a round into each of his legs, they left him to die.

_Washington DC—NCIS HQ_

"Gibbs!" McGee called from the catwalk. "I think we've got something!"

Gibbs took the stairs three at a time, but he still couldn't get there fast enough, in his opinion. McGee was almost smiling; that had to mean they'd found them, right? Finally, he reached MTAC, where there were two pictures on the screen in front of him.

"Who am I looking at?" je asked.

"Hopefully, it's our guy."

"Abby's facial comparison ID'ed him as the guy we saw leaving the scene of the 'accident' yesterday," explained Eric.

Gibbs was already heading for the door. "Good work. McGee, with me. Where are we going?"

"the camera picked him up at the entrance of a storage facility, five minutes ago."

"We'll take Callen and Hanna, and call Blye and Vaile on the way. We've got a lot of lockers to search, and who knows how much time."

_Washington DC—Storage Lockers_

They searched rows and rows of lockers, all empty of living beings. They did stumble upon a pile of bones, but were too preoccupied with the job at hand to even be remotely interested. McGee put yet another key into yet another lock. As the door opened, a groan escaped from within. Gibbs and McGee looked at each other and pulled their guns. When they were both ready, they whipped the door open.

"NCIS!" they yelled at the bruised and bloody man on the floor.

"McGee—"

"Ambulance. On it, Boss," he finished, replacing his gun in his holster and taking out his phone. Gibbs walked over to the man to see what he could do to help, and he cursed when he recognized him.

"Boss?" asked McGee, confused.

"Tell 'em we got an agent down. It's DiNozzo."

* * *

**A/N **Come on, if you don't have anything to say to me about that, there's something wrong with you! Review review review!


	18. Brothers and Fathers

**A/N **Only about 2 chapters left! I'm so excited!

For those of you who read Lies and Double Lives, a poll is up. Do you want Tony to have his chance with Jeanne, or are you Tiva all the way?

* * *

_Washington DC—Storage Lockers_

Tony was coughing up blood when the paramedics arrived.

"You're all right, Tony," Gibbs reassured the Senior Field Agent, stepping back to let the EMT's do their jobs.

After a deep inhale from his recently-received oxygen mask, he plucked it off again. "Boss." His voice was low and shaky, but Gibbs heard him.

He closed the space between them again, replacing the mask over Tony's nose and mouth. "Don't talk, Tony. Just breathe."

He took a deep, overdramatic breath, then reached up again. Gibbs realized that whatever Tony wanted to say, it must have been important.

"Plane." He replaced the mask quickly, inhaling again.

"What about a plane?" Gibbs asked, forgetting it was painful for Tony to speak. He was in full investigator mode at the mention of a possible clue to the whereabouts of his other agent. When Tony lifted his hand, however, Gibbs remembered, and shook his head. "Yes or no, DiNozzo. Is Ziva getting on a plane?"

Tony began to nod, but the motion caused him to cough again.

"Let's try sign language. Yes…" he demonstrated. "And no."

"So, Ziva's getting on a plane?"

Tony bobbed his fist enthusiastically up and down; a yes.

Before Gibbs could ask another question, however, a paramedic interrupted. "Sir, we need to get him to the hospital. Will you be riding along?"

Gibbs looked down at his agent. As much as he cared about Tony and wanted to be there to make sure he was okay, he still had another agent to find. His mind was made up when Tony put his pointer and middle fingers together and tapped them with his thumb: no. He then pointed to McGee.

Gibbs was so proud of his SFA at that moment that, had he not been a marine, he might have teared up. Though the two were constantly fighting, and Tony especially was quick to tease and reluctant to let up, Gibbs knew the two were like brothers. They looked out for each other whenever the situation called for it, and sometimes even when it didn't. Gibbs was pleased that Tony would rather have had Tim go than him.

McGee, who had been watching from a few feet away (as was earlier mentioned, they looked out for each other), came over when he saw Tony point to him.

"What's up, Boss?" He still felt guilty about what happened to Tony, though everyone (well, almost everyone) had tried to tell him that it wasn't his fault.

"You're riding with Tony to the hospital. He says—"

"Me? Why aren't you going, Boss?" McGee couldn't understand why Gibbs wasn't going. Surely Tony would rather have his father figure accompany him than the junior field agent.

Gibbs shrugged, trying to keep the grin off his face. "He wanted you. I don't know, you can ask him on the way. Anyway, he says that Ziva's on a plane. Find out anything you can, and use yes or no questions. This is yes, and this is no," he explained, demonstrating.

"Good luck, Tony," he added as he walked away.

"Boss," Tony said weakly, pausing to breathe from the mask again.

He turned expectantly.

"Find her."

* * *

_Washington DC—En Route to Washington National Airport_

Racing towards the airport, with the LA agents right on his bumper, Gibbs was feeling immense pride for both of his male agents. Not only had Tony allowed – no, ordered – Gibbs to leave him with McGee so he could find Ziva (it was moments like these that made Gibbs feel guilty about returning to NCIS, because he had stolen the team Tony so obviously deserved), but Tim had risen above his hatred of Eric to help his friends.

After finding out all that he could from Tony (which, unfortunately, hadn't been much) he had called Eric. After explaining what was going on – with an explicit order _not to tell Abby_ – he told him to use Abby's comparison software to look for the captors en route to any airport or landing pad in the area.

That's how Gibbs and the others knew where to go: McGee had an idea, and Eric carried it out. Gibbs was going to have to address this teamwork when everything was over.

He just hoped they'd get there in time.

_Washington DC—Bethesda Hospital_

Tim was a wreck at the hospital. He was still wondering why Tony had wanted him, and not Gibbs, to accompany him in the ambulance. He would have asked, but he saw how difficult it was for Tony to breathe. He decided that it would be wiser to wait until Tony was feeling better. He wished it had been Gibbs. He hated – absolutely hated – sitting there in the waiting room with nothing to do but worry.

He put his head in his hands, impatiently waiting for news on Tony, or Ziva – or any news, really. He sighed, and stood up to pace – again. It was as he was pacing that he realized that he didn't have to do this alone. And Abby was going to find out soon enough anyway….

He'd never dialed that phone number faster.

* * *

_Washington DC—Washington National Airport_

The agents sprinted through the airport, flashing their badges at security and anybody else who got upset about their hurry. Kensi and Dom paused a few times to flash Ziva's picture to see if anyone had seen her, and all answers were points in the direction that Gibbs was already running.

Finally, they caught a glimpse of her curly dark hair in the crowd. Gibbs slowed and pulled his gun, signaling for the others to do so as well. If they called her name, the men she was with could have pulled out their own weapons. Luckily, it was two captors to five agents, six if Ziva was included in the number.

They probably would have succeeded in a quiet confrontation, if a middle-aged woman hadn't seen Gibbs taking out his weapon.

"Gun!" she screamed.

Gibbs cursed under his breath as the two men turned. Ziva did as well, and her expression lit up when she saw Gibbs had come to rescue her. Then the man next to her, in one fluid moment, snatched her by the hair and held a knife to her throat.

"I do not think this can end well for you, Agent Gibbs. If you move your hand an inch, Miss David is dead. Her father will understand."

Everyone in the vicinity was frozen in fear, the agents in fear that Ziva would be killed.

Dom and Kensi, however, had been behind the rest of the group. They walked slowly through the crowd. When they saw what was going on, they acted accordingly.

"We're going to miss our plane! Is that what you wanted? I told you we shouldn't have come this way!" Kensi shouted at Dom, shoving her way through the crowd.

"That was not my fault! Who had to take off her belt, and her necklace, and her rings…" Dom yelled back.

It worked. The men had turned to watch the scene unfolding in front of them, which gave Gibbs the distraction he needed to advance on them. Ziva threw her elbow into the man's gut, who then doubled over in pain. Gibbs was on top of him in a second, throwing cuffs on his wrists. His partner, obviously not the brains of the operation, looked for a place to run.

"Oh, no you don't," Sam blocked him off, and Callen came up behind him.

"You really should quit your job. If the boss would understand his daughter's murder, I don't think he's the kind of man you want to work for."

This comment was not much appreciated by the captors, but they said nothing.

Ziva ran to Gibbs, seeking comfort after such an emotionally draining few days. He wrapped his arms around her, and was surprised when she reciprocated. It was a hug that could rival Abby's. He was even more surprised when he heard her sobs.

"I am so sorry, Gibbs. I wish I had not come back. I will leave when I am done giving my statement."

He couldn't understand anything more, for she was now weeping. For the loss of her family, and the return of her father, and for Tony…

_Tony!_

"Gibbs… is Tony…?" She couldn't finish her thought.

"He's in the hospital now, where you should be, too. We need to get you checked out."

"No. I am fine. I should leave you alone. I will not have you do anything more for me. It is not fair—"

"Agent David!"

She looked up at him, shocked at the harshness in his voice.

"You are not going anywhere. You came back here to get away from your father. You rebuilt your life; you don't need him anymore. Don't give me any BS that staying here with us would be selfish. We're a mess without you. We need you, Ziva."

Tears welled in her eyes again. She walked back into his arms, and for the first time, felt a father's loving embrace.

* * *

**A/N **Awwww. I will admit it, i had tears in my eyes as i wrote this. I hope everyone forgives me for my cruelty to Tony and Ziva, because they're both under Gibbs' care again. he didnt give them permission to die!


	19. To the Hospital

**A/N **For anyone who didnt understand, in the last chapter Dom and Kensi were pretending to be a couple arguing about being late for their flight so that the captors would be distracted. Woohoo, it worked! On to the next chapter!

* * *

_Washington DC—Labby_

"You found Tony?" Abby was ecstatic at the news. "Is he—"

Eric looked up at her as she cut off and was frightened to see that she wore the same expression that she had when she first learned that Tony and Ziva were missing.

"And Ziva?" she whispered, tears in her eyes. They spilled over at Tim's negative reply. Then she took a shaky breath and, feigning confidence, said, "Well, Bethesda, right? Okay," she said, grabbing her keys. "I'm on my way."

Tim's response caused her to make a face, and she said indignantly, "Yes, McGee, I _am_ okay to drive!" But her sniffling betrayed her. "N, McGee, I said I'm… _Fine_!" she yelled, hanging up. "Come on, Eric, you're driving me to the hospital."

_

* * *

_

Washington DC-

_Washington National Airport_

Despite her protests, Ziva was enjoying Gibbs' insistence that she go to the hospital. On the rare occasion that Eli had asked if she'd needed medical assistance, her expected answer had always been "No, Father, I will be fine." When she actually admitted that she needed help, his disappointed expression was always enough for her to take it back. But with Gibbs, her safety was always the first priority.

"Ziva, you've got a head wound that needs to be checked out," Callen pointed out, joining the argument on Gibbs' side.

She winced. With all of the emotional stress, she'd forgotten about the physical pain. Now that Callen mentioned it, however, it hurt.

"All right, all right." Her head was now in her hands, and both Gibbs and Callen had to reach out to steady her. The exhaustion, stress, and pain had finally gotten to her, and she found herself leaning heavily on the two men as they made their way to the car.

_

* * *

_

Washington DC—Bethesda Hospital

McGee was on the phone when Abby and Eric walked into the waiting room, and he was beaming.

"Thanks, Dom," he said as he hung up. To the two in the doorway, he announced, "They found Ziva."

Abby's face lit up, and she let out a squeal. In two seconds she'd crossed the room and leaped into Tim's arms.

"She's okay," he added as he staggered backwards.

Abby's carefree laughter was suddenly cut off, and she took a step back. "How's Tony?"

Tim's happiness faded as well, and he didn't answer.

"Timothy McGee! I am so _tired_ of everyone keeping things from me! I am a grown woman, and I don't need anyone to protect me. _Don't_!" she yelled as the men exchanged glances full of situations in which she had needed protection.

"Fine, Abby, you're right. But we only keep things from you so you don't get upset—"

"It upsets me when you don't tell me everything, McGee! Because that means that something is really wrong, and then my imagination goes into overdrive. Now, _tell me_!"

Tim took a deep breath. "He's got internal bleeding, broken ribs, a broken arm, cuts and bruises everywhere, and a GSW to each leg." He spoke the list tonelessly, as if he was simply telling her the details of a case, but by the end it sank in just how much Tony had been through.

All three sank into chairs as the gravity of the situation became clear.

"So, where's Gibbs?" Abby asked suddenly. "On a coffee run?"

"No, he's not here yet," McGee answered, though his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

"What do you mean, 'he's not here'?"

"Abby…" both men cautioned. Luckily, the room was empty of anyone else, but they did not want to attract the attention of a passing nurse.

She stood up and started to pace as if she hadn't heard them. "With those injuries Tony could be _dead_. The only reason he isn't is because you guys, somehow, found him in time. Then Gibbs just _leaves him_? That's not like him at all, McGee!"

"Well, Abby, he had to go find Ziva. And besides—"

"Tim, stop. That's not an excuse. If it was just the two of you, I wouldn't mind so much. But there was another whole _team_ who could have rescued Ziva. But, no, Gibbs _left_ Tony in his time of need, and made you ride with him, _alone_, to the hospital, where you had to wait, _alone_, for news… He owes both of you an apology, Rule 6 or no Rule 6!"

"_Abby_!"

She blinked at Tim's outburst, and Eric jumped.

"It wasn't Gibbs' decision."

"Then whose—"

"Please, Abs, let me talk! _Tony_ wanted me to ride with him in the ambulance, okay? _Tony_, not Gibbs. I don't know why," he added as Abby opened her mouth to ask. "I don't know why," he repeated.

His head was in his hands again, and Abby came to sit beside him. She wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but with Tony's list of injuries, even the optimistic Goth wasn't sure.

* * *

**A/N **Sorry for the pessimism. But really, all of that, how can Tony survive? Add onto that list that the day before the only woman he'd ever had a real relationship with (despite the way it all ended) was killed, and his partner (maybe more) was on her way to her murderous father in Israel! Why would he want to fight? It's not looking good for Tony. *DRAMATIC MUSIC!*


	20. Finally, Good News

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this up. I've actually had this chapter done for a while, but I thought I already put it up. Sorry again; enjoy!**

_Washington DC— En Route to Bethesda Hospital_

By the time they arrived at the hospital, Gibbs and Ziva had filled each other in on most of the events that had occurred.

Ziva had gone first, and Gibbs was silent. She told him that the captors had come as she was getting dressed, and she hadn't had time to react before they knocked her out. She described the room in which they were held, and she told him that the men were indeed there on Director David's orders, and that they had, in fact, killed Jeanne. She did not tell him about the argument over a partner's duties, or that she had volunteered to go back to Israel of her own free will, to save Tony. She would tell him later, after talking to Tony; she needed to talk to him first.

Gibbs, unaware that she had left anything out, told her everything that had happened: about going to her apartment and finding minimal evidence, about his short temper getting shorter, and about Abby's meltdown. He said that Abby was blaming McGee for the kidnapping, and it just made the poor junior agent feel all the guiltier. When he got to the previous night's events, Ziva felt the need to interrupt.

"McGee _punched_ him?"

Gibbs did not miss that under the initial shock, her words held disappointment, but he ignored it. "Yep. Right in the nose. So I took them into the elevator…"

"He punched him in the _face_?" The words were dripping with disappointment now.

This time, however, Gibbs called her out on it. "You don't sound too concerned for Beal's safety," he accused.

"Well… On the plane to Los Angeles… Tony and I made a… a bet… and I just lost."

To her surprise, Gibbs laughed. She smiled in response.

"Perhaps he will have forgotten, in light of recent events. After all, we did not set any filets," she said hopefully.

"Stakes, Ziva. No stakes. And you don't really think DiNozzo would pass up on a chance to brag about being right, do you?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Yes, I suppose it _was_ merely wishful thinking."

He continued to relay earlier events. When he got to finding Tony, she said nothing, but he noticed that a few tears had escaped by the time he had finished.

"Ziva, look at me." When she did, he told her, "This is _not_ your fault. You did _nothing_ wrong. This was _all _Eli David. _Not you_. Hey!" She had looked away. "He will be fine. I did not give him permission to die."

Again, his words brought tears to her eyes, and she looked away again, embarrassed and unconvinced.

"Ziva, I promise."

He said it so forcefully that she had no choice but to believe him.

* * *

_Washington DC—Bethesda Hospital_

When they got to the hospital, Ziva got into an argument with the nurse at the front desk. The nurse was adamant that Ziva be checked out right away, but Ziva wanted to see her friends – her _family_ – first. Gibbs had to flash his badge before the woman – grudgingly – let them through.

Upon their arrival at the waiting room in which McGee, Eric, Ducky, and Hetty were sitting, Abby jumped up to hug Ziva. Ziva, to everyone's surprise, instead of freezing as she normally would have, squeezed back with the same bone-crushing force. Abby, shocked, just hugged her tighter.

"We need to talk," Ziva whispered in her ear as they separated.

Abby, though confused, nodded.

Next Ziva walked over to Tim, who had stood when they'd walked in. "Thank you," she whispered. "Gibbs told me everything. I need to talk to you, as well."

"Sure, Ziva," he murmured in reply, returning her hug after a surprised pause. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I have you to thank for that, I hear," she said kissing his cheek.

He turned bright red. "Well, ah, not just me…"

"No," she agreed. She then turned to face the room. "Thank you all. When the others get here, tell them to come and see me so I can thank them as well. If not for you, I would be on a plane to Tel Aviv right now. Now I must see a doctor," she finished, holding her head.

So, with Gibbs still at her side, she left.

Gibbs returned an hour later, to find that the group had grown. Callen, Sam, Kensi and Dom had dropped the captors off at headquarters and come straight to the hospital. Palmer was also there, looking quite worried, Belatedly, Gibbs remembered that he had become Tony's friend during Gibbs' absence.

"The doctors want to keep an eye on her for a few days, because of her head wound," he announced, taking a seat. "She's fine, just a little shaken up. She's asleep now. Any news on DiNozzo?"

As if on cue, a doctor entered the room. "Family of Anthony DiNozzo?"

Everyone stood up.

"You're _all _his family?" he asked doubtfully.

Everyone sat down, with the exception of Gibbs, McGee and Abby.

"That's a bit better," the doctor muttered. Then, louder, "Come with me, please."

He led them out into the hallway, and informed them, "He is out of surgery, and now in the recovery ward."

"Can we see him?" Abby blurted.

The doctor looked at her, annoyed. "I'll get to that. As I was saying," he said, talking to the two men now, "With the extent of his injuries, we decided it would be best to put him in a drug-induced coma for a few days, to keep him out of pain."

"Wouldn't morphine suffice?" Abby asked, irritated that the doctor had dismissed her so blatantly.

"Yes, but we would like to be sure that his vitals are in order before he experiences any more stress."

"So we can't see him?" McGee asked.

"I don't see a problem with it, but please understand that he won't be able to hear you. And please, just one at a time."

"Will he be okay?" Abby inquired.

"Well, we won't be sure for a few hours, but things are looking good for him."

All three beamed at the news, and Abby hugged McGee again. They then returned to the waiting room with the great news.

The mood of the room instantly lightened, and everyone smiled. Abby relayed everything the doctor had said. When she mentioned the coma, Kensi gasped.

"They put him in a coma?"

"They're not so bad," Gibbs said nonchalantly.

"You were in a coma?" Callen asked, expertly concealing the hurt he felt at finding out his old friend had been in such a state.

"Two," the entire DC team corrected.

Before Callen could say anything, however, Abby continued, "And the doctor says he'll be okay! And we can see him! I'm going first!" she yelled as she ran out the door.

* * *

**So, that's chapter 20. If you disagree with anything, or love something in particular, tell me! How can I improve if I don't know what my readers like?**


	21. Heart to Heart to Heart

**A/N: Aren't you excited? Two chapters in one night! I'm excited! **

_Washington DC—Bethesda Hospital_

Somehow, McGee recognized the scream as Ziva's though it was a sound he had never heard before, even in Somalia – and one he hoped to never hear again.

He was out of the waiting room, gun drawn, before anyone else had so much as stood up. He sprinted down the hall, flashing his badge as a reflex to control the panic. Finally, he made it to Ziva's room. Hesitating only briefly, he went in.

He saw nothing other than a weeping Ziva sitting on her bed, shaking and hugging her legs to her chest in a failing attempt to keep herself together.

Tim crossed the room in two steps, sat gently beside her on the bed, and pulled her into his arms, well aware that while he was not the best man for this job, he had no choice in the matter. There were only two men in the hospital – perhaps the world – who could help Ziva more than he could, but Tony was in a coma, and Gibbs was right by his Senior Field Agent's side, probably remembering his own experiences. So Tim was on his own.

"Ziva, what's wrong? What happened?" His words were dripping with anxiety for his friend.

"It was…nothing… Just a…nighthorse," she said unconvincingly between her sniffles.

"It doesn't look like 'just a nightmare.'"

"It was about…Somalia… And this morning."

Hearing this, he squeezed her tighter against himself, trying to let her know that nothing was going to happen to her now; that it was safe. He too had the occasional Somalia nightmare, but it must have been ten times worse for her.

When her tears had dried, and her sniffling had slowed, Tim stood up with a quiet chuckle. To her accusative eyes, he explained, "I was just thinking that Tony would shoot me if he'd walked in just then. Repeatedly."  
His attempt at humor fell. At Tony's name, her eyes swam again, and at "repeatedly" the tears rolled over in waves. "How is he?" she whispered.

He winced at her question, and this did not go unnoticed.

"McGee, I am one person you do not want to lie to. You would be surprised by all of the things in this hospital room that I could fashion into a weapon."

He flinched again, but answered, "Well… He'll be fine, Ziva."

This just made her even more worried. "I did not ask how he _will be_. I will ask again, _how is he_?"

"He's in a coma. Drug induced. They'll pull him out in a few days. I'm surprised you didn't wake him up, with all the yelling you're doing."

Both agents turned, surprised, in the direction of the newcomer's voice. They were a bit embarrassed that behind Gibbs were Sam and Callen, and they had been there the whole time. Tim was grateful for Gibbs' interruption, however, because he hadn't had to tell Ziva about Tony's condition.

"A…coma?" Ziva was experiencing conflicting emotions. On the one hand, she was relieved that he was alive. After all, she had witnessed that brutal beating. And yet… she couldn't help remembering Gibbs' coma days. The thought itself terrified her.

"He'll be fine, Ziva. Is there anything you need?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes. May I speak to Abby?"

The LA agents had already left, seeing that there was no danger to be dealt with. As Gibbs left, Ziva caught Tim in the middle of a yawn, despite his efforts to conceal it.

"Do you need a break, McGee?" she asked d him. "You have been quite busy today."

"No, I'm fine," he assured her, another yawn betraying him.

She grinned. "You need rest. Worrying about your coworkers and breaking noses are not very relaxing activities. I doubt you got any sleep at all last night!"

"It wasn't broken! Just a little bloody," he said defensively. "He handled it like a baby, too," he muttered. Ziva grinned.

"He shouldn't have had to 'handle it' at all!" Abby wasn't in quite the same opinion as Ziva on the subject.

"McGee…" Ziva cut in before a full argument took place.

He sighed, giving up. "Take a nonviolent nap. I'm on it."

"And could you also…?"

"Shutting the door," he answered, doing so.

* * *

"Was that you screaming? I thought so. What happened? No one got in here, did they? You'll probably be under extra security tonight anyway. I'll stay by your bed if you want, and I'll get Bert, too. I can bring one of my good flesh-eating acids, and you can keep that by your bedside. You know, just in case—"

"Abby! I am fine. I just had a nightmare."

"Oh!" Abby leaned down to give Ziva a hug. "That's awful! Do you want to talk about it?"

Ziva smiled at her friend. "Not today. It is too soon… I do not want to relive it. Besides, I think it is a talk I should have with Tony first."

Abby hugged her again sympathetically. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Ziva fidgeted, which was very unusual for her. Abby waited patiently. Finally, Ziva spoke. "It is about…McGee and Eric."

Abby's expression hardened. "If you're going to tell me I can't do anything to fix whatever it is between them, and that you won't tell me what it is, don't waste your breath. I heard the same thing twice already."

"Do you really not have any clue as to why they do not like each other, Abby?"

"No! And I'm getting really tired of all the secrets!"

"I will not tell you outright, Abby, but I will tell you this: they feel the same way about each other as you did about Susan Grady. Remember? You told me about that night you went down to your lab, after her other workplace was blown up?"

"Of course I remember! I wanted to… I need to talk to Tim."

"Wait, Abby... Can I warn him first? He might not hate me as much if I tell him beforehand."

"He won't hate you, Ziva, but sure."

* * *

Tim entered her room with a puzzled expression on his face.

"What did you say to Abby?" he asked. "She looked…dazed. And she's a hard person to confuse, even if you are an ex-ninja."

Her eyebrows went up, and he revised, "A…stealthy killer like yourself!"

"Well…"

He eyed her apprehensively. She wasn't one to show weakness in any form, even a loss for words.

"I think…"

"Ziva… What did you say to her?" he demanded.

She took a deep breath, and finally admitted, "She knows, McGee."

"Knows what?" he asked, suspicious.

"The reason for your silly feud!" she exclaimed.

"That wasn't your secret to tell, Ziva," he told her darkly.

"It was hardly a secret, McGee," she scoffed.

He glared at her for a few moments before realizing that arguing with Ziva was one of the last things he wanted to do. Tired, he sat down and, his head in his hands, asked her, "Why'd you tell her, Ziva?"

"She was the only one who didn't know, McGee. And I didn't tell her. She figured it out."

"With no help at all from you?" he asked skeptically.

The silence was all the answer he needed.

"Why, Ziva?"

The quiet, exhausted way that he asked the question made Ziva answer. "I… She had to know. With our jobs, tomorrow is a mystery. If we have something on our minds, now is the time to say it. We might not get another chance."  
"What brought this on? You've been kidnapped before, and Saleem held you a lot longer and tortured you. Why…?" The answer suddenly came to him. "It's because of Tony, isn't it?"

She turned her head away as a tear rolled down her cheek.

His voice dropped until it was barely audible. "You love him, don't you?"

She nodded tearfully. She couldn't find her voice to confirm it aloud.

"Ziva, you will have your chance to tell him. I promise you, he will wake up. And when he does, yours will be the first face he wants to see. So focus on getting better, okay?"

She nodded again and he turned to go find Abby.

On his way out the door, he paused, and said with a grin, "You know, you are one person I never expected to play matchmaker."

She let out a small, wet giggle, and he left the room, dreading his next conversation.

* * *

Tim took a deep breath as he left Ziva's room.

_What do I say to Abby?_

He paused outside the waiting room. Abby saw him, and politely excused herself. Eric's eyes flitted between the two, his expression clouding over, and he looked like he was going to say something. But he didn't, and Abby joined McGee in the hallway.

They walked in silence until they came across an empty waiting room. They turned into it and, still standing, McGee began to speak.

"Abby, I – "

She shook her head vehemently. "No, McGee, stop."  
"But I – "

"Look around you, McGee! We're in a _hospital_. Your best friend is in a _coma_. This is _not_ the time or the place to be discussing this."

"Then why did you come with me?" he asked exasperatedly.

"Because I – I don't know, Tim." She no longer bore the confidence she was known for. The stress of the day had caught up with her. "I don't want to do this, Tim; I don't like having to choose."

His heart almost broke to see the tears in her eyes, and he pulled her into a hug. "I know, Abs, and I'm sorry I was the one to put you in this position." Except, he wasn't. Ziva was the one who told her. But his guilt was still overwhelming.

"I just need to know one thing…" she said, pulling out of his hug to look at him.

"What?" he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

"Is it true?"

He took a deep breath. He wasn't going to back down; she needed to know. "Yes, Abby. I l—"

"You know what," she said, cutting him off quickly, "you look tired. And I'm sure Jethro's hungry. Why don't you go home?"

"Abby, you asked!" he called to her, but she was already speed-walking away from him.

"See you tomorrow, Timmy!" she yelled over her shoulder.

* * *

She returned to the waiting room, cheeks still damp, alone.

"What did he do to you, Abby?" Eric asked, both concerned for her and angry at McGee.

"Chill, Eric," Sam ordered.

Gibbs silently walked over to her and gave her a hug. As his arms went around her, she broke. The stress of the day with Tony and Ziva, as well as her conversation with McGee, was all too much to handle. Keeping one arm around her, he guided her out into the empty hallway, and they sat down on the floor.

"What happened, Abs?" he whispered.

"Ziva told me… that Erica and Tim have been fighting… over me. So I… asked Tim… if it was true… and he… he almost said…"

Gibbs understood without her saying another word, for which she was grateful. She couldn't bear to say it, or hear it, out loud.

"It's all right, Abs, he reassured her. "You'll figure it out."

"I don't want to choose, Gibbs. I don't want to choose."

_Washington DC—McGee's Apartment_

"There you go, boy," McGee said, placing Jethro's bowl on the floor. As he straightened up, someone knocked on his door.

He opened it, and wasn't surprised to find Gibbs standing there.

Letting him in, he said, "I know why you're here, Boss. You're going to give me a headslap for breaking one of your rules. And, I know, it's not just any rule, but Rule 12, and it's not just any co-worker, it's Abby. I know she's your favorite, and you probably hate me right now, but—" He sighed. "It might not even matter anyway. She could still choose Beal.

"I'm trying to tell myself that I only want her to be happy… but, Boss, what if she chooses him? Would one of them transfer? I can't even imagine coming into work and not seeing her everyday, but it'd probably be just as bad seeing them together.  
"You don't even have to tell me I'm being selfish; I know I am." He sank into a chair and put his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?"

He felt a fatherly grip on his shoulder, and looked up.

"I didn't come to yell at you, McGee. Abby might be my favorite, but I came to see _you_, to make sure you're okay, and tell you I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, yeah, Tim. Tony was as good as dead when we got there, but you still just went into the ambulance with him. Then you helped Ziva get over that nightmare. I heard that scream; it couldn't have been easy. You're a good man, Timothy, and you sure proved it today."

Tim sat back in his seat, stunned.

"And, to answer your question, there's not much you can do until Abby decides."

McGee groaned, and halfway through it turned into a yawn.

Gibbs clapped his hand on McGee's shoulder again. "Get some rest, Tim. I know it'll be hard to sleep tonight, but if I see you at the hospital before ten o'clock tomorrow morning, I'm sending you right back home. Got it?"  
"Got it, Boss," he answered through another yawn.

"Good. And one more thing: I hope she picks you."

* * *

**Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww! You should have seen me writing this scene. It must have taken me about five times as long as it should have, because I had to stop and say, "This is so cute!" and "I wish Gibbs would actually say this!"**


	22. He'll Live

**A/N: Hey! This story is about to wrap up, maybe about 3 more chapters. Then I will work harder on Justified Injustice and Lies and Double Lives. But right now, I'm on a mission to finish this by Thanksgiving. I do have school and other things to do, but I am so close, so writing will take up all of my free time (when I'm not watching NCIS, of course!).  
**

* * *

_Washington DC—Bethesda Hospital_

Two nights passed. Gibbs had only left that one time to talk to Tim. Tony was still asleep, but Ziva was much better, walking around the hospital. Her nightmares persisted, but none were as bad as that first one.

It was agreed that the kidnappers were Gibbs' to interrogate, so they were still in NCIS custody, awaiting their questioning. No one really cared about their discomfort except Eli David; Director Vance was doing his best to avoid an international incident – more international incidents.

The third night, however, as he was talking to Ziva in Tony's room, a nurse came in to kick him out.

"I'm not leaving him," Gibbs growled.

"Sir, I'm afraid I'm not asking."

He glared at her, and she apologetically continued, "We broke the rules the first two nights by letting you stay; you're not helping anyone by staying here, least of all yourself. And he won't be waking up until tomorrow," she added, as if it made a difference.

"He's not the only one I'm staying for."

Ziva took the nurse's side. "Gibbs, I'll be fine if you go home to sleep tonight. My nightmares really are getting better."

Gibbs rose; he knew when he'd lost. "All right. G'night, Ziva."

"I'll see you in the morning, Gibbs."

He glanced once more at Tony lying still on the bed, then left.

* * *

_Washington DC—Gibbs' Basement_

An angry hammering filled Gibbs' basement. Even when he had to pull his hand back, the noise echoed off the walls. So it's no wonder that he didn't notice Abby right away.

When he did, he straightened, wiped the sweat from his brow, and asked, "What's up, Abs?"

She glared at him. "'_What's up, Abs?_' 'What's up' is that you've been avoiding me for two days! You've barely even looked at me… And I need you, Gibbs."

He put down his hammer to walk over to her and give her a hug.

"It's all right, Abs…"

"No, it's _not_ all right! _Nothing_ is all right! Tony and Ziva are in Bethesda – Tony's in a coma! – and… and you're here. Why are you here, and not with them?"

"The nurse sent me home," he said simply.

"And you listened?" She couldn't believe it.

"I didn't have a choice; she and Ziva ganged up on me."

"Oh."

"So why are you here, Abs?"

"Right… I'm here because I need you to remind me that Rule 12 exists for a reason, and that breaking it would be a huge mistake; like, huger than huge; like, galaxy-sized huge."

"I can't say that, Abs."

"Why not? You're _Gibbs_! You can do anything!"

"Because then I'd be breaking one of your rules. Rule 1: Never lie to Abby."

"So, you want me to pick one." She wasn't accusing him; she was asking him what he thought she should do.

"No, Abs, that's not what I said. I just want you to be happy. I don't care if you choose McGee, or Beal, or Palmer, or nobody. I'll support you, whatever you do."

"That doesn't help me, Gibbs."

"I know, Abs, but it's the truth."

"What am I going to do?"

* * *

_Washington DC—Bethesda Hospital_

Gibbs came back early the next morning, but he didn't really care about "proper visitation hours." To him, they were suggestions, suggestions to be ignored. He had two agents in there, and one was in a coma. He was supposed to wake up today, and Gibbs would not miss that. If he had to hold his weapon to the nurse's head, no one was kicking him out today.

He walked into the hospital without incident. The nurse who'd made him leave the night before noticed him, but she just shook her head at him when he nodded a good morning. He took that to mean he was free to keep going.

He entered Tony's room, only half surprised to find not one, but two of his agents sleeping there. Ziva was dozing in the chair, her hand closed securely around Tony's. He relaxed against the door frame and took a sip of his coffee. He wished he knew how to work the camera on his phone; Tony would have wanted to see this… not that he ever would have admitted it. Gibbs shook his head. Why did he have to be so stubborn?

_Because he learned from you_, a voice in the back of his head told him. Gibbs sighed. Ziva would deny this, Tony wouldn't believe it, and telling anyone else about it would be betraying his team. So he just stood there, enjoying what Ziva wouldn't let herself, and what Tony couldn't, drinking his coffee. When his cup was empty, he tapped her on the shoulder.

She jerked awake, ready to kill her attacker until she realized it was only Gibbs. She smiled sheepishly. "Good morning."

Gibbs was disappointed, but not surprised, to see that she had dropped Tony's hand. _Well, so much for that…_

"Morning. You sleep like that all night?"

"Well…"

"Come on. You're going to bed. A real bed, not another chair."

"But, Gibbs –"

"No buts, Ziva. You need your rest. I promise, if I hear anything, I will come and wake you up."

She would have argued, but she was too tired to win. Instead, she said, "All right. But I'm just sleeping until the others get here."

Her sentence was punctuated with a yawn, and Gibbs grinned and said, "We'll see."

She trudged back to her room, and fell asleep before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Abby showed up about an hour later, in a particularly disheveled condition. Gibbs' eyebrows rose, but he had the common sense not to say anything about the lack of pigtails or makeup. She was wearing a huge t-shirt and sweatpants, which he hadn't even known she owned.

She sat on the arm of Gibbs' chair without a word, and they both sat there, listening to the hums and beeps of Tony's machines, watching the covers rise and fall.

Finally, she broke the silence. "I made my decision, Gibbs."

He raised his eyebrows again, but he still said nothing.

Still staring at Tony's too-still form, she continued, "I've decided that I'm not going to choose. At least not now. I mean, how am I supposed to think about anything other than Tony? Look at him!" her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears, again. "I just can't think right now. Besides, I'm still mad at Tim. If he hadn't left…"

"If he hadn't left, Tony would have found a way to get him out of there anyway. Or he'd be in here, too," Gibbs told her gently.

Before she could reply, a third figure entered the room.

"Morning," said an unkempt McGee, looking like he'd just rolled out of bed.

The other two nodded at him, as if they hadn't just been talking about him. It was clear that none of them had slept well last night, so no one saw the need to talk about it. They stayed there for a long while, engrossed in their own thoughts. Gibbs was thinking about repealing Rule 12, because, after this awful case, he just wanted his team to be happy. Abby was thinking about what Gibbs had said, knowing that he was right, and thanking God that it wasn't Tim's bed they were all crowded around. And Tim was wondering why Tony had asked him to join him in the ambulance, and if Tony would even remember anything when he woke up.

In another half hour, the doctor came in.

"He should be awakening within the hour. When he does, we ask that someone please alert us, and that he only has one visitor at a time."

Everyone agreed, then turned their attention eagerly back to the bed.

"Hey, McGee, can you go tell Ziva? I told her I'd wake her up if we heard anything. And, if she asks, you two just got here."

* * *

The tension in the room was tangible. Eagerness and anxiety buzzed through four of the bodies, waiting for a sign of life in the fifth.

Gibbs hadn't moved from his seat, absentmindedly fingering his empty coffee cup. Abby was still perched on the arm of the chair, watching Tony so intently that she was barely blinking. Ziva stood on the opposite side of the bed, leaning against the wall, her fingers twitching as she fought to keep herself from holding Tony's hand. McGee was by the door, feeling as if he didn't belong, as if he had personally done this to Tony. He didn't know that Gibbs and Ziva felt the same way.

25…30…35…40 minutes. The ticking of the clock seemed to get slower and louder; it taunted them more with each passing second.

Then Abby saw it: an incredibly small spasm in Tony's face. She sat up a bit straighter, and edged closer to the end of her seat. The others, seeing this, began to focus harder as well.

When his eyelids began to flutter, McGee left the room, his bright smile taking up most of his face. Abby walked out as well, but not before planting a kiss on Tony's forehead.

Ziva looked at Gibbs and sighed. She knew they had all agreed that he should be the one to talk to Tony first, but that didn't mean she liked it. She peeled herself off the wall, gave Tony's hand a small squeeze, and then followed McGee and Abby.

Tony's eyes opened just as the doctors rushed in. He was instantly bombarded with a series of questions: "How do you feel?"s and "Can you…?"s flew from the doctors' mouths with amazing speed. Finally, the doctors decided that he was okay, and they left.

Gibbs rose to stand by his agent's bed.

"You look… almost as bad… as I feel, Boss," Tony gasped.

"That so? Well, worrying about my agents tends to do that to me."

It took a minute for the plural _agents_ to get through the foggy medicine barrier into his brain, but when it did, Tony was instantly serious.

"Ziva?"

"She's fine. We got her at the airport, thanks to you."

"They got her…thanks to me," Tony countered. "If I'd been…paying more attention…"

"Don't think that just because you've got a head wound I won't smack you for being stupid, DiNozzo."

"Course not, Boss… Can I… see her?"

"Sure you can, but not yet. There are some things that need to be taken care of first."

"Like what?" Tony demanded. "Boss, there is _nothing_ more important to me right now –"

"How about McGee?"

Tony paled. "What happened to him? Please tell me he's okay, Boss; I really can't take much more of this…"

"He'll be all right after you talk to him. He blames himself."

"But –"

"_I_ know, DiNozzo. But _he_ doesn't. Telling him is your job, not mine."

"Yes, Boss," he answered.

Gibbs grinned at his reluctance. "You'll live, Tony."

They let that linger in the air for a few minutes, relishing the certain truth in that statement which hadn't been there for the past few days.

_You'll live, Tony._

* * *

**A/N: Well? What did you think? I was so happy when I finally got to his waking up. The next chapter is almost done, and I'm working really hard to finish it. I would really love to hear your thoughts. Yes, you can be honest!**


	23. Not Coworkers, A Family

**A/N: Hooray! That's two chapters in a day! Actually, chapters 22 and 23 were combined as one until today, when I decided that would be too much reading for one chapter. So, I gave you two! Enjoy the present!

* * *

**

The first words out of McGee's mouth were, "Oh my God, Tony, I'm so sorry!"

Tony tried not to roll his eyes at the junior agent, but, really, this was ridiculous.

"McGee…"

"No, Tony. Don't tell me it's all right, because it's not. Look at you! I don't know why I thought lunch with Abby was more important than Ziva's protection detail. If there's anything I can do for you…."

"The first thing you can do for me, McGee, is shut up," Tony told him, annoyed.

Tim, shocked, complied immediately.

"Next, I need you to do me a favor."

"Sure, Tony, anything."

"Give yourself a good, hard smack to the back of the head."

This time, Tim wasn't so quick to do as he said. "What? Why?" he demanded.

"Because, Tim, you're being stupid. Do you think I'm _mad_ at you for getting out of this unscathed? Think again, Probie. If you hadn't gone to lunch with Abby, do you know where you'd be? In here with me, or on one of Ducky's tables. You _do_ know that, right?"

Tim, now in a stunned silence, sank into the chair.

Tony continued with a bit of his normal DiNozzo humor. "You know, you really should thank Beal. If he hadn't been trying to steal your girl away from you, I wouldn't have felt so bad and let you go."

Tim began to turn red – with embarrassment and blatant denial. It was evident that his words were coming to him again, and Tony did not want them to be flying angrily at him.

So he changed the subject. "How's that going, by the way? The Abby/Eric situation?"

Tim stiffened. "I don't want to talk about it."

"You know, Tim, that really isn't fair," Tony whined. "These McSecrets hurt; and those McLies might actually make that machine over there say, 'BEEEEEEEEEEP.' Just tell me what's going on. You know I've got your six, right?"

"Yeah, Tony, I know," he said sincerely, albeit reluctantly.

"Well, then…"

Tim sighed, but a slight smile played on his lips. _I can't believe I missed Tony so much that I'm happy to hear him annoying me._

"It's not good, Tony." _What am I doing? Confiding in_ Tony_?_ And yet, he couldn't stop. "Abby knows; Ziva told her. I guess I can't blame her, with everything that's happened. Anyway, Abby… She said… She said she's not going to choose between the two of us," he finished in a rush. It was painful to say.

"You'd think that girl would follow her own advice," Tony muttered. At Tim's confused expression, he explained, "She's been after me to tell Ziva how I feel about her since before Somalia; afterwards, every two seconds she was asking me, 'Did you tell her yet?' Don't worry; I'll talk to her."

"You'll what?" Tim exclaimed, leaping out of his chair. "No! No, you won't…"

Tony was taken aback by his outburst. "McGee…" he tried to reason.

"No! I mean it, DiNozzo, don't you dare –"

"I have to, Tim. It's my job."

That stopped McGee short. "The only 'job' you have is getting better so you can make our lives miserable again," McGee insisted.

Tony shook his head. "You know, McGee, to Gibbs and Abby and I, this team is all we've got. To us, we're not coworkers; we're more than that; a family. And I'm an only child, so I could be wrong, but brothers look out for their brothers, right?"

* * *

Tim left the room in a bit of a daze. It wasn't that he was having trouble believing it – because he did, in fact, believe it – but it was quite surprising.

"You're up," he told Abby, who squealed and sprinted into Tony's room.

* * *

"Oh my God! Tony! I'm so glad you're all right! I mean, you're not 'all right,' but you're alive! Can I hug you?" She bent down and did so without waiting for an answer. She pulled back quickly at his yelp of pain. "Sorry, Tony!"

"It's okay, Abs. But are _you_ all right?"

_How does he know? Oh, yeah, McGee…_She just shook her head.

"I could tell. No pigtails, sweatpants… Did they recall Caf-Pow or something?" he joked, trying to make her feel better.

"That's not even funny, DiNozzo," she said with a small grin. "No; it's McGee and Eric. Why didn't you warn me?"

"I didn't want to get involved! But, after what McGee said, I guess I should have. I'm sorry, Abby."

"Oh. Did he tell you about what happened in my lab the other night?"

Tony narrowed his eyes. "No. But you're going to."

"Um… McGee kind of… punched Eric in the nose," she finished in a rush.

He wouldn't let himself feel smug; he had to tell himself that this was not good news. But if he was being honest with himself, he would have admitted that he was proud of the junior agent for standing up for Abby; and, of course, helping him win the bet. Abby was obviously put off by it, so he had to do something. "_PROBIE_!" he roared. "Get in here!"

Tim's head cautiously popped into the room. "Yeah, Tony?" he asked warily.

"Get over here," he growled, then sighed in frustration. "Abby, can you help me out here?"

She smacked Tim, hard, on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You punched Eric?" Tony asked.

"Well, yeah, but I –"

"We'll talk later," he interrupted. When he was sure Abby was looking smugly at McGee, he gave him a reassuring nod and smile. Tim instantly relaxed a little bit, understanding that Tony had only yelled for Abby's benefit.

_Does he always have ulterior motives when he does things like this?_ he wondered, making a mental note to watch out for it. "Does that mean I can go?"

"Get out of here, McGee," Tony answered, sounding disgusted. Now that he knew he was only putting on a show, however, McGee almost laughed. He bowed his head instead – trying to look ashamed of himself – to hide his smile as he walked out.

"So, what exactly did McGee tell you?" Abby asked.

"He told me that you're not deciding between them. Is that true?" He tried to keep all emotion out of his voice. He wasn't going to obviously support one decision or another. She had to decide by herself.

"Yes, it's true. I just – I don't know what else to do, Tony." She was starting to cry.

"Aw, Abs, don't cry. It's okay."

"No, it's not. And I know I'm always telling you to tell Ziva before it's too late, but now I know why you haven't yet. It's hard, and I really don't want to mess anything up."

Tony smiled reassuringly. "Abs, I'm going to take your advice. As soon as you walk out of here, I'm telling Ziva."

Abby gasped. "Really?"

"Really. I've decided it's worth the risk. _She's_ worth the risk. And if it weren't for you bugging me about it every two seconds, I don't think I ever would have considered telling her."

"Oh my God." Abby's eyes still shined with tears, but she had a slight smile on her face. "Oh my God!" she repeated. "I'll go, then, Tony! Oh my God!"

He laughed at her as she turned to walk out. He hoped she understood what he was trying to tell her, but doubted she would right away.

* * *

Ziva entered the room, and her eyes instantly filled with tears of relief. It was amazing how much better – healthier – he looked after just opening his eyes. His huge smile was just as joyful.

She crossed the room and took his hand, and they just stayed like that for a few minutes. They were both so wrapped up in their joy of seeing the other alive, they couldn't think of words to convey how they felt.

Finally, Tony broke the silence with the one question he needed answered: "Are you all right?"

"I am fine; much better than you are."

"I didn't just mean physically. And if you even think about lying to me, I'll see right through it," he warned.

So, instead of lying, she just avoided the question. "You shouldn't be worrying about me, Tony."

"So you're not okay." He frowned. "What is it?"

"Nothing, Tony. I'm just…worried for my partner."

"Stop lying to me, Ziva! Something's up… I can see it in your eyes. Don't make me ask Gibbs…"

She sighed and admitted, "The nightmares are back."

After Somalia, it had taken Ziva a few weeks to start trusting Tony again – he had, after all, killed her boyfriend just a few months before. When she did, she told him about the dreams that kept her awake every night. He sat by her side and listened, not saying a word as she spoke. That's what partners did.

He cursed. "Your father," he began, "had better _pray_ that he and I never meet again, because I _swear_ –"

"Tony!" Ziva was shocked, and…flattered? Tony was threatening to kill her father, and she was _flattered_? "They are just nightmares!"

"You know that's not true, Ziva," he said bitterly. "If they were 'just nightmares' they wouldn't upset you so much. Has Gibbs been keeping an eye on you?"

"Actually, it was McGee," she corrected.

"I owe that guy a new typewriter," Tony muttered to himself.

"They are getting better," she insisted.

"But I should have been there for you," he told her, angry with himself.

"Tony, I know that if you could have, you would have been by my side the whole time. This is not your fault. I am the one –"

"Stop, Ziva. I don't want to hear another word."

"But—"

"No," he persisted, giving her arm a slight yank. When they were face to face, he said, "I need to tell you something."

She nodded…

And he kissed her. It was the most wonderful kiss either had ever felt, but Ziva couldn't let it continue.

As she pulled away, he told her, "I love you, Ziva David."

It was a dream come true, music to her ears, but she couldn't let herself believe it. "But, Jeanne…"

His face twisted in pain, and she instantly regretted bringing her up.

"Ziva, Jeanne was amazing. She was beautiful, smart, funny… She loved me, and I loved her."

Ziva waited for the but, _prayed _that there would be a but_…_

"But she can't even come close to you. Ziva, her death was nowhere near as traumatic as yours was."

She was confused for a moment, until she remembered. "Somalia," she whispered.

He nodded. "Ziva, when you left, I was a mess. It only made things worse that everyone was so worried about me. I could hardly focus on anything, and you were in all of my thoughts. Once I overheard Abby telling McGee that she almost wished you were dead, because then I wouldn't be wishing for your forgiveness.

"The next thing I knew, you _were_ dead. It just got worse. That small amount of concentration I had was gone. I was so depressed that Gibbs didn't want me to be alone. He had me on 24 hour watch; Abby, McGee, Gibbs, Ducky and even Palmer took turns sleeping at my place. Gibbs took my gun every night so I wouldn't shoot myself, and someone drove me to and from work every day.

"The mission to go after Saleem was a last resort for them; if that didn't get me back into my normal rhythm, Vance was going to fire me. I knew there was a chance that I wouldn't come back, but I almost welcomed that outcome.

"I almost didn't believe it when I saw you there, alive.

"I meant it when I said I couldn't live without you, with my whole heart. I still mean it, Ziva. I told you, I love you."

Tears filled both sets of eyes, and she could hardly find her voice to whisper, "I love you, too. But what do we tell Gibbs?" she asked, too elated to actually worry.

"I'm wondering about that myself," Gibbs said from the doorway. "And I don't appreciate you telling McGee the secret."

"Somebody had to," Tony defended himself. "And I didn't tell him all of it."

"What are you talking about?" Ziva asked.

"The Rule 12 loophole," Tony answered.

She looked between the two men, waiting for an explanation. When none came, she prompted, "I did not realize Gibbs' rules allowed for loopholes."

"Aren't you going to tell her, Boss?"

"I'm starting to regret telling _you_, DiNozzo."

Tony took that as his answer. "Okay, I'll do it." He looked at Ziva. "Members of your team don't count as coworkers. Your team is closer than family. So, Rule 12 doesn't apply to them."

"So, you approve…" Ziva said slowly; she really didn't want to upset Gibbs.

"I don't really have a choice." Suddenly, he turned his Gibbs-glare on Tony. "Don't you dare hurt her, DiNozzo."

Tony was taken aback. "Never, Boss. You know that."

Gibbs nodded, knowing that he could take his senior field agent at his word. "You either, Ziva."

"Me?" she asked innocently.

"You heard me," he said with a small grin. "Don't hurt him."

She answered slyly, "I will do my best."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the suicidal Tony bit, but I thought it made it seem a little more romantic, and it definitely defined the way he feels about her compared to Jeanne. I mean, when Jeanne left, his pain was definitely not that bad. I also want to hear your thoughts on the loophole. I thought it was clever, but that's a bit egotistic of me. Please review!**


	24. The Loophole Spreads

**A/N: Okay, this chapter gave me so much trouble. The last scene was the hardest one to write, so please grace me with some reviews to tell me if I did it right. If not... Well, it's too late. So, here's hoping I get lots of happy reviews (going off of feedback so far, I think there's a good possibility of that), and you all enjoy Chapter 24!**

It was about 9:30 the next morning when Tim poked his head into Tony's room. He was laying there with his eyes closed, so McGee, assuming he was sleeping, went to shut the door again; he could come back later.

"Come in, McGee. I'm awake."

Doing so, he said, "Sorry, Tony. I thought I was being quiet."

"You were; I've been awake for a while."

"So…" McGee hesitated. This was a bit awkward; they didn't usually have talks like this. Then again, they were family now. "You really told Ziva?"

Tony grinned. "Yeah. It felt great, getting it off my chest. And then she told me she loved me too and… Darn."

"What?" McGee asked. _What went wrong?_

"Well, when you walked in, I was concentrating on getting myself to stop smiling, and now all that work was for nothing."

He really didn't want to ruin Tony's good mood, but he needed to know… "What did Gibbs say?"

To McGee's surprise, Tony kept on smiling. "He just told me not to hurt her. I'm good with that; we've both gone through enough pain as it is."

"And Rule 12?"

Tony's smile began to fade a bit. "So you haven't figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?"

"Nothing; never mind."

Knowing that was all the answer he was going to get, McGee decided to find an answer to something that was eating away at him. "Tony, I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"It's about that thing you said…"

"I say a lot of things, McGee," Tony joked.

"Trust me, I know," Tim teased.

"Hey! I'm lying here in a hospital bed with holes in my legs! Cut a guy a break!"

"Okay, okay," Tim knew Tony was joking, but he still felt too guilty to find it funny. "You said we're a family…"

Tony's grin grew a bit wider. _He's getting it!_

"And Abby's a part of that family…"

_Yes!_ "Yeah, she's the best little sister I've ever had. But everyone sees her as something different…" _Come on, man, don't make me spell it out for you!_

Tim's smile began to mirror Tony's. "And family comes first."

"Absolutely," Tony agreed.

"Does that mean we wouldn't be breaking the rules? If we're family before we're coworkers…"

"Yes!" Tony couldn't control himself anymore.

Neither could Tim. Their grins were wider than the Cheshire Cat's.

"Does Abby know?" McGee asked.

"About the loophole? Honestly, I'm not sure. But she does know that as Gibbs' little princess, she can get away with anything."

"Do you think – ?"

"Why are you asking me?" Tony interrupted. "Ask her."

Tim turned to leave; he needed to talk to her before he had time to chicken out.

"Wait." Tim stopped and turned back around. "I have some things I need to say to you.

"First of all, you've got to stop blaming yourself, all right? It's really killing me to see that look on your face. What we do is dangerous, but we signed up for it. Think about what kind of a world we'd live in if we didn't make these sacrifices."

"What movie is that from, Tony?"

"I resent that! That was all me! Anyway, I wasn't done.

"Second, I'm really proud of you, Tim."

"Proud? Why are you proud of me?" He was completely confused.

"Ziva told me what you did to get us back. It couldn't have been easy, working with Eric, but you did it anyway. We may not be blood related, I may pick on you all the time, and you may annoy me with all that geek-speak, but I don't think I could ever find a better brother than you."

Tim almost asked, "Really?" but he could see that Tony meant what he said. "Thanks Tony, I feel the same way… Your movie quotes are unbearably annoying!"

Tony's smile – which had been ear to ear – was frozen in shock for a minute. Then he began to laugh. It was contagious; soon the two had tears rolling down their cheeks. Tony tried to calm himself down. Gasping for breath, he said, "And about your… punching Eric… I say… Good job, McGee."

Tim frowned. "You're the only one who's saying that. Abby completely hates me, and Gibbs isn't too happy with me, either."

Tony shook his head. "The list of people Abby hates is a short one, and your name will never be on it; trust me. And Gibbs is never happy. You'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

Tony took a minute to pretend to think about it. "Yeah, I got your six. It's the least I can do."

"For saving you and Ziva?"

"Yeah, that works, too… But I was saying for helping me win my bet with Ziva."

Tim narrowed his eyes. "What bet with Ziva?"

Tony grinned. "On the plane out to LA, we were talking about how you'd treat Eric. I told her you'd punch him in the face, but she said you 'couldn't hurt a flea.'"

"I don't know whether to be mad about the bet, or laugh at the 'hurt a flea' comment."

"Well, you don't have to do either. I'm done; go find Abby."

Tim didn't need to be told twice.

* * *

He all but ran into the bullpen, knowing that he should check in with Gibbs as soon as he got to work, even before seeing Abby. Vance had decided that he needed the team back at work today; Tony was awake, and Ziva was well enough to take care of him, though she was on medical leave. Gibbs, Abby, and Tim were told – ordered – to go back to work today. Luckily, he'd thought to call Gibbs to let him know he was going to check on Tony this morning, so he wouldn't be yelled at for being late.

"Morning, Boss," he said quickly as he threw his bag toward his desk. "Hettie, Kensi, Dom," he greeted belatedly.

Gibbs just nodded, but the other three returned his greeting.

Wasting no time, he asked, "Is Abby in?"

Gibbs looked up, wearing a look that was almost amused that he'd figured it out, but he said nothing.

"Yes… Ms. Sciuto is down working in her lab."

"Thanks, Hettie!" he called over his shoulder.

"Wait! She said not to bother her!" Kensi called to him, but she was too late; the elevator doors were already closing.

* * *

He exited the elevator to the strain of her music through the closed door of her lab. It was hardly ever closed; the last time she'd closed it he'd walked into it. This time he was somewhat prepared.

He hesitated before entering, knowing that she wouldn't want to be interrupted now. On the other side of the door, she would be double, triple, and quadruple checking every test. When cases got this personal, she didn't trust anyone to get the job done the right way, not even herself. She needed the guilty party to rot in jail, and if she made any mistakes, that might not happen. So she made sure not to make any mistakes.

He checked his watch. 10:30. Knowing Abby, she'd gotten here at 5 o'clock, which meant she'd been working for five and a half hours, with no breaks. She'd have several empty Caf-Pows filling her trashcan, and her fridge would be holding many more waiting for consumption. She would also be trying to raise her salt intake to reduce the number of times she would have to leave her work. It wasn't healthy.

With that thought, he shoved the door open.

"Abby! Abby!" he shouted. He couldn't understand how she concentrated with all the noise, but experience had taught him not to turn it off, or even down. "Abby!"

She turned toward him, but didn't reach to lower the volume. "Go away, McGee; I need to focus."

"No, you need to take a break. We've already caught the guys; Tony and Ziva will testify. This case is as good as… Abs, my voice really can't take this. Please turn it down."

She sighed, and it was more visible than audible. She turned down the music, and then responded to the first part of what he said. "A break? Are you kidding? McGee, we don't have time for a break! Tony's still in the hospital; we don't even know if he'll walk again! We need to do everything we can to keep this from happening again!"

He rolled his eyes at her dramatics. "Of course, he'll walk again."

She interrupted, "He has two holes in his legs, Timmy!"

He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, looked into her eyes. "He will walk again, Abs. He's survived the plague, and his car blowing up – which you know is worse than a deadly disease in Tony's mind – and daily Gibbs slaps, and Kate's death, Ziva's death – don't look at me like that, you know what I mean – Director Shepard's death, Jeanne's death… He's a fighter, Abs. He won't stop fighting for anything; if anything, he's found a new reason to fight."

"Ziva," she realized. She looked at him for a minute before saying, "I don't know if that was Timothy McGee or Thom E. Gemcity talking, but thanks." She hugged him.

"Come on. I haven't eaten yet, and you haven't eaten anything good for you. I'm taking you out to breakfast."

"But –"

"It'll wait, Abs. And Gibbs will understand."

"But Leon said –"

Again, he cut her off. "Abs, I told the Deputy Secretary of State to stick it. For you, I'd say much worse to our director."

She hugged him again, only slightly uncomfortable from the way he'd said "for you," and followed him out of the agency.

* * *

He hadn't been sure how he'd felt when the IHOP had shown up in the Navy Yard a few years ago. He'd wished it would have been a coffee shop, or a McDonalds. But now, he was more than grateful as he looked over the menu.

"What are you getting?" he asked.

"Those strawberry pancakes look really good…"

He laughed. "Then get them. I'm going to get French toast, eggs, and sausage."

She looked at him.

"What?"

"You really are hungry, aren't you?"

"Yeah. I slept in later than I should have, and then I went to the hospital to see Tony. He still looks pretty weak. I'm eating half of this for him."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I'm sure he'd appreciate it more if you actually got him something."

He pretended to look confused. "Why would I do that?"

They laughed together. When their food came, however, McGee turned serious. It was time to tell her what he'd meant to in the lab.

At the same time, Tony's words came flooding back into Abby's mind: _"It's worth the risk. _She's_ worth the risk." _

Looking at the man across the table, she decided he was worth it, too.

"Tim –"

"Abby –"

They grinned. Speaking at the same time further proved what they already knew.

"You go… No, you go… Fine."

Abby narrowed her eyes, and Tim leaned back in his seat, both thinking the same thing: _We spend too much time together._

_No,_ Abby corrected herself, I _could never spend too much time with him._

"Can I talk now?" he asked, his amusement clear in his voice, as well as in his expression.

"Yes. Please do."

"Okay… I think," he said, taking a deep breath. She said nothing, just waited. "Abs, I went to see Tony this morning. He really told her…Ziva, I mean. He was so…happy. I don't think he's ever been that happy, that I've ever seen, at least. I mean, he's always got a smile, but he's never been happy. Do you understand that? I don't know if I understand it…"

"Yes, I get it," she assured him.

"And Gibbs didn't even kill him. I guess I knew he wouldn't… and I haven't seen Ziva yet, but I'll bet she's just as happy as Tony."

"Oh, she is. She called me last night, and I can't even tell you what she said; I just remember that I couldn't hear much past her smile. It was like screaming at me."

He knew exactly what she meant, no doubt from years of hearing Abby-logic. "Anyway, When I saw Tony like that – heard him tell me that it takes all of his concentration to stop smiling – I got jealous."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Jealous?"

"What? No!" It didn't take long to realize how bad that sounded. "Abby, not about Ziva!"

"Then what? About Tony?" she teased.

"Abby, please, just let me finish! I want what Tony has. Not with Ziva, with you. I've always wanted that, since I first heard your voice. I know you said that you don't want to choose between us, but, Abs, if you feel like I do… There's no competition. I…" he trailed off, making sure she wouldn't run away again. He needn't have worried; she was rooted in place. "I love you, Abs."

She gasped. She couldn't help it; she'd been too caught up in the words as he was saying them to guess what he would say next. As the shock wore off, however, she said, "You're right. There's no choice involved. I talked to Tony last night before he talked to Ziva, and he was so ready, so sure… And I realized that I was jealous, too."

"If you tell me that you love Tony, I might throw up."

She almost laughed, remembering so many of his early cases when he'd turned green at the crime scene, then realized he was serious. "Well, I don't know how to answer that…"

"With a 'No, of course not, never!'" Tim exclaimed desperately.

Now she couldn't stop the laughter. "Tim, I love Tony, but just as a big brother."

He gave a huge sigh of relief.

"And I l—" She cut herself off, leaving her next sentence hanging.

"I know, Abs. You don't have to say it. Last time you said it, you added 'like the way I love puppies.' I think I'd prefer hearing you say you love Tony over that," he told her, wincing at the memory.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry. I might not be able to say the L word yet, but I can tell you one thing."

He looked at her expectantly.

"I pick you."

His smile began to grow, just as it had in Tony's room that morning, but faster, wider. "You pick…me?"

"Of course I do." She walked over to his seat, sat in his lap. "It will always be you," she said, right before she kissed him.

* * *

When they returned to NCIS, they both went directly down to the lab. Abby needed help – whether she wanted it or not – and he was the only one trusted enough to do it. He usually helped her out anyway, and there would be…problems, if they hired an assistant for her: Gibbs wouldn't approve, Abby would definitely be paranoid, no one would trust the assistant to be careful with the evidence… The list goes on. So McGee stepped in. His first priority was Abby. He rationed her Caf-Pow, made sure that she sat down every once in a while, took a small ten minute break every two hours.

At nine o'clock, they were both fighting to stay awake. She'd been there for about sixteen hours, and he'd been too worried about her caffeine intake to think about his own, or lack thereof. Gibbs had called down to the lab and told them to leave; the evidence could wait until tomorrow. Abby had tried to protest, but McGee had taken the phone and told him they'd be right up.

In the elevator, Tim informed Abby, "You're coming home with me tonight."

"Ooh, really?" she asked mischievously.

He looked down at her, trying to look disapproving, but he ended up looking amused. "Yes, really. Jethro misses you."

"Is he the only one?"

"You know the answer to that. Besides, you've had so much Caf-Pow today, I don't know if you should be driving."

"It's caffeine, Tim, not alcohol," she told him.

"I know, but caffeine is a drug, too."

Her response was sticking her tongue out at him. "Always the responsible one."

"Not always," he said. "This is a risk." He leaned down to kiss her. It was the first one since breakfast, because once they got back to the agency, work had been the first priority. But here, in the elevator, there were no cameras, no one watching…

_Ding!_

The door opened before they could break apart, and when they did they found themselves face to face with Callen, Sam, and Eric. The rest had already gone back to the hotel, but these three had been too busy, apparently. The first two looked somewhat amused; the latter was furious.

Abby stepped out of the elevator, making it a point to stand between McGee and Eric. Callen and Sam each put a hand on Eric's shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Eric. I didn't want you to find out like this…"

Shrugging off his teammates and stepping around Abby, he coldly replied, "That's okay. Hey, McGee, I think I owe you something."

"What?"

"This!" He pulled his arm back, and then let it fly into McGee's face. It connected, hard, with his jaw.

Abby stomped her foot. "Not again! No, stop!"

Eric, not listening, pulled back to punch again. Before Callen or Sam could intervene, McGee ducked and quickly had Eric pinned to the ground.

Callen and Sam finally stepped in, Sam taking care of Tim, and Callen holding Eric back.

"Tell me, Eric, what made you think that was a good idea?" Callen demanded. "He could charge you with assaulting a federal agent!"

Sam, noticing that his partner had things with Eric under control, addressed McGee. "Where'd you learn that move? That was pretty impressive."

Tim refrained from saying what he wanted to: that Eric was just a super computer nerd with no real muscle, so it had hardly been a challenge. Instead, he answered, "I wrestled a bit in high school. And Gibbs makes us go down to the gym sometimes to practice fighting, too."

Now it was Abby's turn to bite her tongue and keep from saying that Kate had taken him down when she was alive, and quite easily. She decided, however, that Eric had already embarrassed himself enough; he didn't need another crushing blow to his ego.

"Can I let you go now?" Callen asked. He was pretty angry about one of his own embarrassing the whole team.

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Good. Come on, Sam. I think it's time we get some sleep."

"Right behind you, G."

When the elevator doors had separated the DC and LA counterparts, Tim put his hand up to his jaw.

"Are you okay?" Abby asked. It was already starting to bruise.

"Yeah," he answered as he went to grab his stuff off of his desk. "What do you say we get some sleep, too?" he asked with a grin.

Wearing almost the same smile, with just a hint of concern, she replied, "Well, _bed_ definitely sounds like a good idea."

* * *

**A/N: Well? At first, I had Abby telling Eric before she told McGee, and he was okay with it, and then I realized that that had absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the story! Then I had a huge writer's meltdown, and I was freaking out because I wanted to have this done by the end of 2010, and now I'm too late. The good news: I only have one chapter left! And if you think that's bad news, I'm flattered, but every good story must come to an end. After this, however, I am writing two other fanfics for NCIS, and one of them (Justified Injustice) will end up being the first in a trilogy! Sorry, I'm done advertising now. Please review!**


	25. Finally Home

**A/N: I know, it's been a while. Sorry. But only two chapters left (for real, this time), and they shouldn't take much time. **

Once in the car, Callen let Eric have it.

"What's wrong with you? I'm beginning to think I should've left you in LA!"

"Beginning to?" Sam scoffed.

Callen spared only enough time to glance briefly at Sam before continuing. "When Hettie hears about this…"

Eric paled. "Hettie?"

"Do you really think I'm dumb enough to keep this from her?"

"Knowing Hettie, she already knows," Sam pointed out.

"That's true," Callen agreed.

"Now you guys are just trying to scare me," Eric accused.

"It's not us you should be afraid of," Callen pointed out as they pulled up to the hotel.

Needless to say, this did not do much to improve Eric's mood. He got out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and stomped into the hotel.

* * *

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The sound of gunshots filled the room. Eric's face glowed in the light of the TV screen as he gripped the video game controller.

Dom had his pillow folded over his head in a failing attempt to block out the noise as he lay on the small cot in their room.

Nate was reading on his bed, flinching every time a shot fired.

"Eric, this isn't healthy." Nate had to shout to be heard over the game.

"It helps me," he argued.

"No, it distracts you; there's a difference."

"Then, tell me, Mr. Psychologist, what would help me?"

"Talking," Nate answered matter-of-factly.

At Eric's snort, Dom resurfaced to add, "No, really. Talking about things has been proven to help. There have been studies."

Eric looked between the two other men, then paused his game. "Fine. Do you want me to tell you what happened? Abby chose McGee."

They winced as he continued. "So I punched him in the face."

Dom looked shocked, but Nate just shook his head. "Eric…"

He kept going as if he hadn't heard him. "Then he pinned me on the ground. Now Callen's mad at me for embarrassing the entire OSP, and I'm dead when Hettie finds out. Okay?"

Dom and Nate looked at each other, and then Nate said. "Okay; we understand. Go back to your video game."

So he did. And, by three in the morning, it had helped. He calmed enough to go to sleep, for which Nate and Dom were thankful.

* * *

A few days later, Tony was being released from the hospital. He was in a wheelchair – something he'd tried to protest, without much luck. The doctors gave him an ultimatum: either he left in the wheelchair, or he stayed in the hospital indefinitely. It worked – and had two hours of physical therapy a day, but they allowed him to continue treatment as an outpatient.

A nurse helped him from the bed to the wheelchair – ignoring his grumbling – while Ziva held it steady. It had been decided that she would take care of him until he was back on his feet again, because she had already been given mandatory leave to recover from the emotional stress of the last few weeks. The team – of course – would come over whenever they could to check on him and break up the monotony.

"Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?" Tony complained as Ziva pushed him to the exit.

She rolled her eyes. "It is necessary, Tony. You can not walk with holes in your legs."

He kept grumbling, but his voice trailed off when they reached the doors. "Ziva, what…?"

She smiled. "They wanted to be here for you, Tony. You said you didn't want them in the hospital when you were released, so they waited outside."

And, in fact, there was the whole team: Gibbs, McGee, Abby, Ducky, and even Palmer were there for him. And, for the moment, he forgot about how embarrassing it was to be seen by his friends in a wheelchair.

The moment the wheelchair touched the sidewalk, Abby rushed over to him – only remembering that Tim's arm was around her after he had already stumbled forward – and gave him a hug.

"Sorry, Tony! I know you didn't want any of us to come, but we're family, and we love you, and we just wanted to be here for you–"

Tony laughed and hugged her back. "Abs, it's okay. I'm actually… glad you all came."

Her face lit up. "I'm happy you said that…"

His eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"You'll see," she said, skipping away from him and back to McGee, where he once again put his arm possessively around her shoulders.

Tony had to laugh at the look on Gibbs' face. "You're just going to have to get used to it, Boss. You'll be seeing it a lot."

"I don't have to do anything, DiNozzo. Just because I have to look at something, doesn't mean I have to like it." But he had a slight smile on his face, so Tony knew that he would, in time, get over it.

The party reached the cars, and McGee and Gibbs – very carefully – helped Tony into Ziva's Mini Cooper, all three men complaining the whole time about the limited space, and the problem of having to put the wheelchair in someone else's car. Ziva just rolled her eyes; she didn't care what they said – it was her car, not theirs.

* * *

When they reached his apartment, Tony was only slightly surprised to see streamers and a "Welcome Home" banner.

"Thanks, Abs," he said, knowing no one else would have done it. "But how–?"

She grinned slyly. "I know where you keep the spare key."

Everyone laughed, and the sound magnified when Tony announced, "I'm moving it as soon as you all leave."

"Well, you might have to wait. We're not going to leave that quickly!" Abby said as she made her way to the kitchen. She returned a few seconds later holding a cake and gift bags. McGee, always the gentleman, rushed to take the cake off her hands so she didn't drop anything.

"Presents?" Tony asked, his eyes lighting up. Again, laughter filled the room.

"You just got out of the hospital, Anthony. We don't want you dying of boredom," Ducky pointed out as Abby all but threw the bags into Tony's lap.

He reached eagerly for the biggest bag, but Abby stopped him.

"No! Open that one last!"

"But I wanted that one first!"

"Stop whining, DiNozzo, and do what she says," Gibbs intervened.

"Fine. Which one can I open, Abs?"

Ziva answered instead. "Open this one," she told him as she handed him a bag.

He ripped the tissue paper out of the way, and made a face. "Gee, thanks, Ziva," he said sarcastically as he pulled the DVD out of its wrapping.

"What?" she asked innocently. "You love movies, and we will have plenty of time to watch it while you recover. I noticed you didn't have it on your shelves."

"That's because it's _Sound of Music_!"

"But it is one of my favorite things!" Ziva joked. "And if I keep the remote out of your reach, there's nothing you can do about it."

"That was a low blow, Ziva," Tony muttered.

She ignored him, and asked, "Who's next?"

"He can open mine," Jimmy offered.

"Am I going to like this one?" Tony asked, a little less anxious to open it.

"Stop being such a baby, and open it!" Abby said.

He opened it, and saw a few packages of his favorite Jamaican-blend coffee grounds, and a few boxes of microwave popcorn. "Thanks, Palmer!"

"Yes, thanks, Jimmy. Now we have something to eat while we watch Sound of Music!"

Tony glared at her and went onto the next present, Ducky's this time. He pulled out the book and smiled. "_A History of Film_. Thanks, Ducky. You might have just given me a reason to open a book."

McGee gasped. "Good job, Ducky. I guess there really is a first time for everything! Oof!" he exclaimed as a package of coffee hit him in the gut.

"You're welcome, Anthony. I've had it for a while; I was waiting for your birthday, actually."

"Okay, Timmy! Your turn!" Abby was all but bouncing with excitement.

"Tony, before you open it, I want you to know that if you break it, I am _not_ buying you another one."

That just made Tony want to open it faster.

"A video game? I should have known," he teased, already trying to get the Wii out of the box.

"Hand it over and I'll set it up for you before I leave. I figured you wouldn't want to just sit around all the time, and this way you can keep up your arm strength, too."

"Thanks, McGee…but isn't it a little expensive?"

"I owed you." His response was curt; Tony made a mental note to ask him later, when no one else was around.

"Okay, Abby. May I have your present now?"

"Did everyone else give you one?" she asked, matching presents to people, and coming up one short. "Gibbs, where's yours?"

"I'll give it to him later, Abs. Go ahead and give it to him."

She did, and the response was two surprised and somewhat unhappy faces.

"More books? How bored do you think I'm going to be?"

"Not just any books," Tim said. "My books. A complete set."

Abby shrugged off their remarks. "They're good books. It's about time some paper made it onto those bookshelves," she said with a gesture to the shelves on his wall filled with movies.

Everyone lingered for a while, passing the Wii remotes around and eating cake. Tony loved the feeling that he belonged to a family, and tried to pretend that he wasn't tired so they would stay longer.

Jimmy and Ducky had places to be, so they left early. Then Abby noticed how tired Tony was, and made up an excuse for why she and McGee should leave.

"Wait. Abs, can I speak to McGee for a minute?" Tony asked.

"I'll meet you in the car," Tim promised.

Gibbs and Ziva were cleaning up in the kitchen, so when Abby left, it was just the two men in the living room.

"If you're going to try to say that the Wii is too expensive again, Tony, I might have to hit you."

Tony chuckled. "No, but can you tell me what you owe me for?"

"You saved my life, Tony. Not just this time, but so many times. Plus, for the first time in my life, I got the girl. _The_ girl, not _a_ girl, Tony."

"I can't take full credit for that, Tim."

"That's fine with me. But I want you to take the Wii. And call me if you need anything."

"That's actually what I had you stay for…"

"What?" Tim asked.

Tony looked to make sure Gibbs and Ziva were out of hearing range. "I need you to take me to therapy."  
Tim looked puzzled. "I thought Ziva was doing that."

"She can't, man. I don't want her there."

"Why not, Tony? She was there for you when you were in your coma; she doesn't think you're weak."  
"I know that," he said, frustrated. "But put yourself in my shoes. Would you want Abby seeing just how much it hurts to do things you could do without any effort last week? Would you want to see that look of guilt on her face because she blames herself for every bit of strain she sees on your face?"

Tim nodded solemnly. "What time do you need me to be here tomorrow?"

About an hour after Tim left, Gibbs was still there, and Tony was struggling to keep his eyes open.

"Hey, DiNozzo? Did you hear me?"

"What, Boss?" Tony asked, clearly exhausted.

"I said, take these. I'm tired of holding your crap for you."

"My badge and gun? How'd you get those?"

"We found them at Ziva's. I thought you'd want them back, as motivation to get back to work."  
"Thanks, Boss. I'm looking forward to it." He'd barely finished the sentence before he was asleep. Gibbs wheeled him to the bedroom, where he and Ziva got him into bed.

"Thank you for staying, Gibbs," Ziva whispered as they walked back into the living room.

"Anytime. Call me if you need anything, okay? I'll be here in ten minutes."

She almost protested that even for her, it was a fifteen minute drive from Gibbs' house to Tony's apartment, but she knew that he would do whatever it took to get there as fast as he could.

"I will, Gibbs. Good night."

"Night, Ziver."

She looked in on Tony once before making her way to the guest room, and fell asleep thinking about how it felt to have family for the first time in a very long time.

* * *

**A/N: Well? Did you like it? Sorry I kind of left the LA team hanging, but I'll pick it up next chapter! I just thought this chapter was getting kind of long, and I had more to do with the DC team. **


	26. Healing Wounds

**A/N: I know, I know. It's been forever. My friends keep telling me to "Work on Tying Up Loose Ends!" but it's hard to just sit down and write, especially as a busy high school senior. But I took my last final today, and prom's tomorrow night, so I'm in a good mood. **

* * *

"Thank you for coming so early, McGee," Ziva greeted him the next morning as he walked into Tony's apartment.

"It's fine. I had Abby walk Jethro before she went to work, so I got to sleep in a little bit. I told you, Ziva, it's no big deal."

"It is to us," she said sincerely, looking into his eyes to show him just how much she meant what she said.

He didn't like what he saw there. They were puffy and red-rimmed, the eyes of the haunted. He looked right back into them. "Your nightmares are back, aren't they?"

Her gaze immediately dropped to the cup of coffee in her shaking hands, proving his theory, and he sighed. Taking her coffee and putting it on the counter, he pulled her into a hug.

"You could have called."

"I did not want to bother anyone."

"Next time, you should," he told her. Then he picked up her coffee and dumped it into the sink. Before she could protest, he said, "Coffee won't help you, Ziva. Sleep will. Go back to bed."

"But Tony–"

"I'll take care of him. Bed. Now. And _call someone_ if you have to."

"I am not going to interrupt them at work because I have a bad dream, McGee," she tried to argue.

"Yes, you will. You know they won't mind. Go."  
She rolled her eyes, but there was a touched smile on her face as she finally gave up and listened.

With one teammate taken care of, Tim decided to deal with the other one.

He knocked on the door. "Tony?"

"It's about time, McGee." The humor that was supposed to be in that statement fell flat, and when Tim opened the door he could clearly see why.

There were bags under eyes that couldn't seem to stay open. He looked worse than he had in the hospital; a ghost of the Tony from the day before.

"Tony, are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" he snapped, then winced as he realized how harsh he'd been. "Sorry. I…had trouble sleeping last night."

Tim was confused for a moment. He could tell that Tony wasn't telling the whole truth… Suddenly, he understood.

"Ziva's nightmares."

"She told you?" Tony asked, surprised and… Was he jealous?

"I figured it out," Tim said with a shrug. "Why? Didn't she tell you?"

"No." He gave a grunt of pain as McGee helped him into the wheelchair. "I woke up at about three this morning to her screaming bloody murder, and I couldn't do anything about it. _Nothing,_ McGee. I was trying to reach for my phone to call Gibbs when she started crying and I realized she was just dreaming. Do you know what that's like?"

Tim didn't say anything for a moment. He could only imagine the pain Tony was going through. To hear Abby's screams and be unable to go to her… He couldn't think of words to describe the agony he'd feel.

Finally, words came to him. "Tony, this is Ziva we're talking about. She's not exactly the most forthright one on the team. She probably thought you were still asleep, and figured she'd tell you in the morning," he reasoned.

Tony shook his head sadly. "I don't think so, McGee. Like you said, it's Ziva. She's not going to tell me anything unless I ask her about it." He sighed, and Tim wheeled him out of the room.

When they reached the kitchen, Tony saw Ziva's mug in the sink. He looked around, confused.

"Where is she?"

"I made her go back to bed."

"What?" Tony was shocked.

"Well, she looked awful, and we both know that coffee isn't a substitute for sleep. Unless you're Gibbs," he added.

"And she just went? Just like that?"

"Well, she tried to argue with me, but… What?" he demanded as Tony shook his head and smiled.

"Our little Timmy's growing up."

"Come on, Tony," he complained, sick of being picked on.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say it like that. I just meant… Look. When we met, you were just the probie who was afraid of Gibbs, and who threw up at crime scenes. Now you're a special agent who argues with a trained assassin for her own good, and wins. Thanks for taking care of her for me, Probie."

Before Tim could stress again that it was no big deal, his phone rang. "McGee," he answered. "Sure, Boss." He held the phone out to Tony.

"Hello?"

_"Good luck today, DiNozzo,"_ Gibbs' voice came through the phone.

"Thanks, Boss."

In the background, he heard someone yell, _"Let me talk to him!"_ Then, directly into the phone, Abby said, _"Listen, Tony, do not push yourself today. You'll only make yourself worse. Take it easy, do you hear me?"_

She was loud enough that McGee could hear her, too, and he grinned when Tony rolled his eyes.

"I hear you, Abs."

_"I don't believe you. Let me talk to Timmy." _

He handed the phone back with a grin of his own.

_"Tim, please make sure he doesn't overdo it, okay?"_

She was still talking loud enough that Tony could hear her.

"Okay, Abs, I will."

Satisfied, she said,_ "Good. See you later! Love you, Timmy!"_

"I love you, too, Abs," he told her, his smile taking over his whole face as he hung up.

Tony laughed. "You sure you know what you're getting into? She's pretty stubborn when she wants to be," he joked.

"I'm sure," Tim answered, no joke in his tone at all. "Let's go, so I can get back to work."

"You must love her. There's no way you'll ever hear me say that," Tony muttered.

* * *

Ziva hadn't planned on falling asleep; hadn't even wanted to fall asleep. But her need for sleep overcame her will to stay awake the minute her head touched the pillow.

She awoke again, feeling much more rested, two hours later. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been in bed at ten o'clock, and couldn't help but admit that it felt good.

She stretched, and decided that she wasn't in the mood for a run. In fact, she didn't want to be anywhere by herself. Not after what had just happened.

After another minute, she was out of bed and getting dressed to go to the one place where she never felt alone.

* * *

She pulled into her usual parking space and waked herself through her plan again. Security would be no problem, but she couldn't risk the elevator. Once she got to Abby's lab, she would have more of a chance of staying. But if Gibbs caught her… She didn't want to explain why she couldn't go back to Tony's alone. Abby would understand without words, and help her out. She took a deep breath and got out of her car.

She was right; she got past security with ease. They didn't know that she was supposed to be at home. She smiled. That was Gibbs' first mistake. Her grin vanished as she realized that after today, he probably wouldn't make that mistake again.

Skipping the elevator, she walked to the stairs. She had expecting the stairs to be the safe option; instead, it was obvious that she should have taken the risk. Just as she reached the first landing, so did Hetty.

"Good morning, Miss David," the older woman greeted.

"Hello, Hetty," Ziva answered, just as polite. Maybe if she was nice, Hetty wouldn't tell…

"I didn't think you would be coming back to work for some time."

"With Tony at therapy, there is not much to do. I decided to come visit Abby."

Hetty pursed her lips. "I'm sure NCIS is quite out of the way, though, isn't it?"

"It was not too far."

"All right then. I was just going out for some tea. Your break room is not very well stocked."

Ziva smiled. "I have to agree with you. Enjoy."

When Ziva could no longer hear Hetty's light footsteps, she breathed a sigh of relief.

She reached the lab's floor, and almost walked in, but something seemed wrong. If Tony were there, he would have had some kind of comment about her "ninja senses tingling." She took a second to figure out what was off, then realized there was no music. Abby wasn't in the lab. She laughed at herself for being so on-edge, and walked in.

"What's so funny?" a male voice asked.

She tensed again, and turned on him, ready to fight should he attack.

Callen held his hands up in surrender. "It's just me!"

She exhaled and shook her head to clear it. "I am sorry. I am a little jumpy this morning."

"It's fine, I can't blame you for that. What are you doing here? I know Gibbs said that you were going to be out for at least a week to get back on your feet. Obviously, you're not ready to come back to work yet."

"I came to visit Abby. Where is she?"

"I'm not sure. Gibbs sent me down here to have her check something, but I've been waiting for about five minutes."

"Oh. I am sure she will be back soon. How is the case coming along?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Did you really come to see Abby, or are you just here to get some information?"

Her eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't thought of that. "No, I only came to talk with Abby! You do not have to tell me anything, if you don't want to."

"I just don't want to get into any trouble with Gibbs. But I'll tell you one thing: he's not taking any chances. Even with the confessions, Abby's triple-checking everything. They're going away for a long time, Ziva."

She struggled to maintain her composure. "Good. And how is your team?"  
He chuckled. "Well, Hetty's pretty mad at Eric right now, but it's actually pretty funny. Gibbs will tell Agent McGee to check something, and Hetty makes Eric do it instead."

Ziva smiled. She'd heard about what had happened from Tony, and was glad that the man who had punched her friend was being punished.

The elevator dinged, and she tensed again. Callen glanced at her, concerned, before turning his attention to his partner.

"Come on, G, what's taking so long? Agent Gibbs is getting impatient. Oh, hi, Ziva."

"Sam," she greeted with a nod.

Callen shrugged. "Gibbs is always impatient. He always has been. And it's not my fault; Abby's not here."

Right on cue, the elevator dinged again, and Abby ran out of it. "Yes she is, yes she is! Sorry, Callen! I just had to talk to Ducky about – Ziva?" She jerked to a halt and began searching Ziva's face for any kind of distress, looking for a reason for Ziva to be at NCIS.

"Good morning, Abby. It was a little lonesome at Tony's all by myself."

Just as she'd expected, Abby knew what she meant without Ziva having to spell it out for her. The Goth wrapped her into a hug and whispered, "We'll talk when the men leave. Give me a minute."

Ziva nodded, and Abby stepped back. "Okay. What do you got for me, G Callen?"

"Well, Abby Sciuto, Gibbs needs the results from–"

"The tox screen, right. It came out the same, but here's the printout just the same."

"Thanks."

"No problem. Now go before Gibbs gets angry."

Sam and Callen turned to go, and the girls heard Sam mutter, "I thought he was always angry," before the doors shut.

"Okay, Ziva. It's just us. Are you okay?"

"I am now. I just could not be alone. Being in Tony's apartment without him makes me think of just how empty it would be if…" She let herself trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Abby sighed. "It's probably going to feel weird for a while, but it'll get better. Just like it did after Somalia."

Ziva smiled. "I know it will. I just hope it gets better sooner rather than later."

It was then that Abby noticed the bags under Ziva's eyes. Though she had gone back to bed, the two hours of sleep had not completely erased the result of the nightmares. "Oh, Ziva. How bad was it?"

"It was not pleasant. I woke up screaming, and I could not get back to sleep. I am glad that Tony is a heavy sleeper; I do not want to bother him with this when he needs to worry about himself."

Abby was shocked. "You didn't tell him?"

Ziva just shook her head.

"But you love him, don't you?"

Again, Ziva couldn't speak; she simply nodded.

"Then he needs to know! Ziva, he loves you, too, more than he's ever loved anyone else. I can see the way he looks at you when he doesn't think anyone's looking. He won't think any less of you for anything, especially this. Call him."

"Abby, he is at physical therapy. I can not call him now."

"Then tell him as soon as he gets home. He needs to know."

"Who needs to know what, Abigail?" Ducky's voice came from the video feed on her desk.

"Um… Nothing, Ducky. What's up?"

"I need you to come down here to look at… Ziva?"

"Good morning, Ducky."

"You are supposed to be resting, my dear," he chided her.

"I know."

"I'm taking care of her, Ducky. She shouldn't be by herself yet," Abby quickly cut in before Ducky could reprimand Ziva further.

"Oh." Ducky blinked. "I suppose you're right. But I doubt Jethro will be too happy when he finds out…"

"Too late, Duck."

Abby and Ziva whirled around to see Gibbs juggling three drinks: his own coffee, Abby's Caf-Pow, and

"I figured you'd want some tea."

Ziva took it from him, bewildered. "How did you–?"

Gibbs just gave her a look, and she cut off. Of course he knew. He was Gibbs. Then he turned his attention to Abby. "When you're done with what you're doing now–"

Abby shook her head, and her pigtails went flying. "No, Gibbs. I've checked, double checked, and triple checked everything to do with this case. I know it's important, but I have other cases that I have to work on! I can't–"

"Abs. I was just going to say that you could take a break, maybe go out to lunch. There'd be less interruptions."

She smiled. "Oh. Thanks, Gibbs."

He walked back to the elevator. As the doors were closing, he called out, "Quadruple checking won't hurt anyone!"

* * *

"So, how do you feel?" McGee asked as they left the hospital.

Tony gave him a "What do you think?" look, and answered, "Like hell."

Tim nodded. He knew that would be a stupid question, but he felt like he had to ask it. "Well, now you can go back home and rest."

Tony was quiet until after he was situated in the car. Then he said, "Actually, could we make a stop? There's someone I need to talk to."

"Who?"

"Jeanne."

* * *

On a park bench in the navy yard, Abby and Ziva sat together sipping tea and Caf-Pow.

After watching Ziva take a long drink, Abby broke the comfortable silence. "Seriously, Ziva, you need to talk to him about this. It's not fair that I know and he doesn't."

Ziva looked away and said, "You are not the only one who knows."

Abby's jaw dropped. "What? Who else?"

"McGee," she mumbled.

"You told Timmy, but not Tony? Ziva!"

"No, I did not tell him…He guessed."

Abby frowned. "And Tony didn't?"

"We did not see each other this morning. McGee helped him up."

She just shook her head. "Ziva, you've got to tell him. What if he did hear you, and he's waiting for you to go to him?"

"Abby, this is Tony we are talking about. He could sleep through a bob-hammer if he was tired enough."

"Jackhammer. And he's a lighter sleeper than you'd think."  
Seeing that Abby had a point, Ziva promised to talk to him that night. Then she changed the subject. "So, how are things going with McGee?"

A smile bloomed on Abby's face. "Great doesn't even begin to describe it. I can't believe what I've been missing."

"Are you sure about this, though, Abby? I remember that it did not end well the first time…"

"Ziva, the worst mistake I ever made was breaking up with him. I am _not_ letting him go again."

Ziva smiled. "I was just making sure. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt."

"Thanks, but I think I'll be okay. If I'm not, I'll just leave the ass-kicking to you."

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Jeanne," Tony breathed. Tears which had formed in his eyes when he'd seen the patch of freshly disturbed dirt began to fall, and he turned to make sure McGee was far enough away that he wouldn't hear.

"I know you're probably looking down at me, furious that I got over you so quickly, but I haven't. I really haven't, Jeanne. I loved you, and that pain will probably never go away. But I love Ziva, too. I love her so much. It was just a stupid rule of my boss's that kept me from seeing it before. I'm sorry that you never got the chance to get to know me. I was pretty different from Tony DiNardo. Maybe it wouldn't have worked out anyway. But when you died, as messed up as I was, I have to say, it wasn't as bad as when I thought Ziva had died last year. I'm so, so sorry, Jeanne. You didn't deserve to die. Not like this."

Words failed him, and he sighed. He wiped his eyes and called to McGee to come and push him back to the parking lot. Neither man said a word until they got to the car.

"Tony, Abby called me to say that Ziva went to headquarters today, but she's on her way back to your place now. Are you okay to go back now? I didn't tell her where we were. She thinks we're still at your physical therapy appointment."

Tony shook his head. "No, it's fine. I just want to go home."

He turned away, ending the conversation, and left McGee to figure out whether "home" meant his apartment or the woman waiting inside it.

* * *

After dropping Tony off at his apartment into Ziva's care, McGee drove back to work. It had been a very intense case, and he had a lot on his mind. At the forefront of it all was the look in Ziva's eyes when she saw her partner. It was…love, and something serious, something wrong. But she'd all but ignored him. She'd thanked him and sent him on his way. That was when he'd realized that it wasn't something he could help with; it was between Tony and Ziva.

"Tony, I need to talk to you."

He frowned. He hated those words, especially in that order. "What's wrong?" he asked. He remembered that she'd been at NCIS earlier, and his mind was coming up with too many scenarios: "None of the witnesses are agreeing to testify," "All of the evidence we found could be ruled circumstantial," and, worst of all, "I was wrong; I don't think this could work out; I don't really love you."

"Last night, I…" She trailed off, searching for the right words. She didn't want to just say "I had a nightmare," because that sounded too childish. "Last night my nightmares came back."

He looked at her, surprised. He wouldn't allow himself to feel relieved, because her dreams were nothing to smile about. "I didn't think you'd tell me," he admitted.

Now it was her turn to look shocked. "You knew?"

"Ziva, you were screaming. I thought they'd come back for you. And then when I couldn't get up…"

She moved closer to him on the couch until she could lay her head on his shoulder. "I am sorry that I did not tell you earlier. I did not want to bother you."

"Bother me? What bothered me was that you didn't tell me, and I didn't think you ever would. What made you do it?"

Ziva looked away, and he turned her face back to face him. "Come on, Ziva, you can tell me."

"I did not decide to tell you by myself. Abby told me that I should, and yelled at me until I agreed with her."

Tony chuckled. "That sounds like Abby."

"She told me that it was not fair that she and McGee knew, and you didn't." Then she shut her mouth quickly. She hadn't wanted to tell him that McGee knew about it.

But he just nodded quietly. "He couldn't believe that you didn't tell me any more than I could believe that you told him."

"I did not tell him; he guessed," Ziva defended herself.

"I know, he said that. Now I have a confession to make, too." He didn't know what made him say that, but then he was kicking himself, because now he had to admit what he'd done after therapy.

"What?" she asked.

He took a deep breath before blurting out, "I saw Jeanne today."

She gave him a sad little smile. "I would have been surprised if you hadn't, Tony. You loved her."

"No, I didn't," he said with a shake of his head. "Not this time."

"But you did once, and you missed her funeral. I understand."

He smiled and turned his head to kiss her. "Thanks, Ziva. I love you."

She kissed him back. "I love you, too."

* * *

McGee walked out of the elevator to find everyone from both teams in the bullpen waiting for him.

"How'd it go?" Abby was the first to ask the question on everyone's mind.

"It looked tough. They didn't have him do much, because he was in a lot of pain. But they said that what he did was more than most people can do, and they think he'll make a full recovery."

There were many sighs of relief, and all tension evaporated from the bullpen.

That is, until Abby ran to hug McGee. The look on Eric's face had everyone poised to stop any fight that might break out.

McGee looked at Gibbs meaningfully. "I'm going down to see if Ducky has anything else we can use against these guys."

Gibbs nodded in response, knowing that he wasn't really going to autopsy. He'd send Callen down later.

Hettie, just as Tim knew she would, tried to stop him. "Mr. McGee, really, I'm sure Mr. Beal could do that for you. Right, Mr. Beal?" she asked in a way that made it clear that it was not a request, but an order.

Grumbling, Eric began to stalk out of the bullpen toward the elevator.

"No, Hettie, it's okay. I got it."

"Just the same, Mr. Beal…" It was a warning that he'd better accompany Tim to autopsy and act like a civilized human being.

When the doors closed with the two men inside, McGee flipped the switch.

Eric turned on him immediately with a crude remark. "You know, I'm surprised all of these DC agents aren't in better shape from having to take the stairs everywhere."

Tim just let it slide. "Look. I'm sorry, okay?"

The other man had another rude comment on his tongue, but it stayed frozen there. He was too surprised by McGee's words to say anything.

He continued, "It's all but an addition to rule 12: Keep it out of the office. Gibbs told me that I don't know how many times. I know I'm breaking another rule by saying this, but I am sorry. I should have listened. I really didn't mean to rub it in like that ."  
"Didn't you?" he asked, much like Tim had just a few days before, in the same elevator.

"No." The word was not colored by a lie. It was completely true. "I didn't mean it. I know it's not an excuse, but we thought you'd all gone back to the hotel already."

Eric scoffed and looked away, clearly agreeing that it wasn't an excuse.

Tim sighed. "And… I'm sorry I dropped you like that. You were right; I _did _deserve a fist to the face. I guess it's the training; it was just a reflex. I didn't mean anything by it."

Again, Eric rolled his eyes dismissively.

"One more thing." He waited until Eric looked at him, doing a double take at the pleading look in Tim's eye. "Don't give up on your friendship with Abby. She takes this kind of thing seriously, and it'll kill her if she loses a friend. As it is, she's beating herself up about it. So maybe if you just… go back to normal? E-mails, gaming, that kind of thing? I can't stand to see her so miserable, and by the way you fought for her, I know you can't either. Please?"

Eric nodded. "I can do that. But don't you hate me? You can't seriously like this idea."

"You're right; I hate it. But if it means that Abby will be happier, I can live with it."

Eric shook his head disbelievingly. Was this guy really that self-sacrificing, or was it just a show?

"And, no, I don't hate you. I did, but I don't anymore." Not knowing what else to say, he decided to do what Gibbs would have done: he ended the conversation there and reached for the switch.

"Why?" Eric asked, and his hand halted where it was, suspended in midair.

"It's just… I feel like, barring the whole Abby situation, we would have gotten to be really good friends. Besides, we've got too much in common. It'd be like hating myself."

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Only one chapter left! I have a feeling that that one's going to be super long, too. But then I'm done!** **By the way, I've found that reviews are a great medicine for writer's block!**


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